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#I definitely want to do actual art for at least one of the fics I read
bloobydabloob · 2 months
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Exclusively stupid stuff. Comic con today
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dynsdiary · 1 month
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━━ wellie elliams
pairings : streamer!ellie williams x reader
warnings : use of yn, mentions of using weed/nic, lowkey self inserted uhh, more focus on ellie than ellie x reader
cr : @idontgetanysleep & @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
a/n : guys i really enjoyed doing this, had a thought of ellie's reactions to read fics about her, her edits (esp with the ai audios, shout out to akemi, i love her) & fan arts
DAILY CLICK
DONT BUY TLOU
WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE
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👾 starts off doing streaming just for fun & thinks to herself that no one’s gonna watch it until people actually enjoy watching her play.
🎮 definitely play minecraft and would argue with KIDS on roblox and get competitive with them while playing.
🕹️ OBSESSED WITH FORTNITE LITERALLY A FUNDRAISER TO FORTNITE
👾 definitely would say this "i can cook, clean and carry you on fortnite" to flirt with girls
🎮 she definitely has a cat(s) and people would always want it on the stream
🕹️ i can totally see her raging while playing valorant lolll and would definitely waste money on the skins too.
“okay chat, should i buy it? nah, im just gonna buy it” the chat floods with saying no but will she listen to you guys? no. “okay, i just bought it! watch my aim get better chat” her aim DOES NOT get any better lol but at least the skins are pretty!!
👾 she’s surely shy at first and won’t show her face, hell even her hands !! she just shows what she's playing and just talk
🎮 would try to be social with her “fans” as much as possible cause she likes to hang out with them.
🕹️ would do a face reveal after she hit the milestone!! and people would go CRAZYYYYY. i mean who wouldn’t, right? it’s ellie williams!!!
👾 she probably would be active on twitter more and sometimes on tiktok and rarely on instagram (just to update story and her feed)
🎮 tweet the most unhinged things YET doesn’t get cancelled because somehow all of her tweets are kind of relateable…
🕹️ other than streaming her gameplay she would definitely do some reaction, play her guitar and sing, reviewing things that are so useless & stupid
👾 talking about reactions, SHE WOULD TOTALLY REACT TO THE EDITS, ART AND FICS ABOUT HER (she thought it was funny and some of the fics are BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN)
smelliewilliams : OH NO SHE KNOWS iloveellie69 : uhh yall better hide !!!! livelaughloveellie : ellie pls dont react to it 😇 simpforels : FOR YR OWN SANITY!! “chat, you’re going crazy” she scoffed. few minutes later… “oh wow, that sure is something! haha uhm…” "the technology is getter scary, how does she makes it sounds like me. like does that not sound like me actually saying it?? it's really impressive" her reacting one of the edits with ai audios that sounds like her “YALL ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD AT DRAWING”
🎮 she appreciates all of your edits, fics and arts! would totally do friday fanarts or something like tom felton would do lol!
🕹️ people BEG her to do vlogs, cause it would be fun and silly vlogs!
👾 her music taste is 👩‍🍳 💋, source? trust me bro.
🎮 people would want her to do a room tour cause somehow she keeps her room clean & tidy but also a really cool room
🕹️ small lights >>>>>> big lights
👾 people would be shocked if they knew how smart ellie is 😭 a major nerd if you ask me ! there's no doubt that she starts to share some fun facts that she knows & takes some online quizzes to prove that she's smart
🎮 would totally go on omegle and just troll or make new friends
🕹️ that is where she met you !!
you were bored one night and decided to go on omegle just for fun and you met her there. although ellie's platform is big, she still doesn't know half of the influencers or streamers so her chat goes CRAZY when she sees you and is like matchalvr : OMG IS TGAT YN ???? smelliewilliams : ELLIE YOURE SO LUCKY justanormalgirl : MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING “wait a second, are you yn?” she asked ”that’s me” “why is my chat going crazy about you?” her eyes scanned the chatroom. “hold on, you do streaming too?”
👾 started to play with you more and she would occasionally join your stream and support you there if she can't play (since the timezone sucks)
🎮 people start shipping you two and one-day ellie liked an edit of you and her (which is super hot and the audio is boaf? BOAF!! , pls get what i mean 😢) and the fandom went insane
🕹️ the two of you started to get close and plan to meet each other sometime in the future
👾 LOL WOULD TOTALLY DO THE “when the gc makes it to the hang out” TIKTOK, the gc is being JUST the two of you 😭
🎮 she would either have an energy drinks, juice or water on her table.
🕹️ her sleep schedule is FUCKED UP, that’s explaining her dark circle & eyebags.
👾 love when people greet her at public place, she just love meeting her fans
🎮 oh im pretty sure she goes to the twitch con (?) thingy and would probably go with you as your date hehehehehehehhehehehe
🕹️ have figurines and legos displayed in her room
👾 super open about her using weed & nicotine (to sleep)
🎮 is open minded and an open book
🕹️ would do "my anons dark secrets confession" thingy
👾 OH SHE WOULD DO ASMR FOR FUN & people actually enjoyed it lol
🎮 she would play dress to impress with you
🕹️ STREAMING TOGETHER WITH YOUUU
👾 when the two of you are officially dating, both of you wear "i love my hot gf" every single streaming session
🎮 she loves matching bro so matching avatar in games
🕹️ would talk about you 24/7 EVEN WHEN SHE DIDNT MEAN TO
"oh me and my gf just-" , "chat, me and yn are-" elsyngfs : OKAY ELLIE WE GET IT!!!!!!!! ynssimp : i get it ellie, i too would talk abt her a lot ynaalyn : WHERE DO I FIND THIS RS GUYS idwtowatchellie : BRO UR R A LOSER GF smelliewilliams : gosh imagine if they're not ldr...
in conclusion, she's literally a loser lovesick lover girl
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REMINDER !!
that neil is a zionist and therefore dont buy his games, doesnt matter remastered or not !!!
before you leave, have you DONATE TO PALESTINE today? ITS FREE TOO !!
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hellfire--cult · 9 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}
Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}
WC: 13.1 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.
Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY
The rules are simple:
1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.
2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.
3- No water and no food will be provided.
4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.
5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.
6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.
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He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.
A wolf.
A fox.
A blank face.
A goat.
A clown.
There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 
He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.
Tonight, his name was Demon.
He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.
Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 
There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 
“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.
“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”
The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 
“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”
The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 
“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 
And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.
“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.
The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.
Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.
“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 
He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 
Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 
Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 
She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.
So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 
But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.
She was going to be his, no matter the cost.
“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 
And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 
The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 
Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.
You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 
Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.
Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.
“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 
“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.
This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 
And he was more than happy to oblige.
“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.
“She will.”
The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.
“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”
At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 
He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 
The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 
After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.
BANG.
His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.
“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 
Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 
One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 
His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 
He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 
“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 
“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.
“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.
“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 
So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.
“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 
“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 
“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.
He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 
“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.
“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.
His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.
He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.
SNAP. CRACK.
“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.
“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 
“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 
“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 
The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.
Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.
He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 
The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.
He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.
“You should come down from the trees.”
A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.
“Your ears are very perceptive.” 
 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 
“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.
“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.
“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.
“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.
“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.
Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.
His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.
He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.
Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.
He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.
He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.
“Caught you.” 
Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.
“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.
You.
“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.
Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.
“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 
“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.
“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.
“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.
“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 
His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 
“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 
You’re free.
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Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.
The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 
You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.
Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.
“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.
Like a small bunny.
“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 
“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.
“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 
“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 
“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”
“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 
Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.
Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.
“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 
You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 
His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.
He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 
His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 
He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 
“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”
“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 
“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”
You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.
“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.
“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.
“Wh–”
“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.
He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.
“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.
“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.
“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.
Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.
“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 
He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.
You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.
Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.
Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.
“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.
He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 
He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 
You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.
“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.
Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.
His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 
He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.
“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.
He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 
You were now part of his home.
A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.
His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.
“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.
“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 
“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 
“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.
“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.
“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 
SMACK.
You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.
Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.
Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.
“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.
“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.
“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 
He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 
His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.
“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 
And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.
His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 
Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 
“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.
“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.
“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.
“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.
He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 
He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 
You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 
He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 
“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 
“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”
He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.
“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.
“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.
You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.
“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 
“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.
He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.
“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.
“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.
Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.
“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 
“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.
“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.
“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.
You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.
Your new home.
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“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.
“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.
“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 
“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.
“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.
“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.
“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.
“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.
“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”
“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.
“I’m the hunter next year.”
“He’s all yours.”
Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.
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Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?
REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.
A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.
1K notes · View notes
innieandsungielover · 2 months
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A/N: This is my first ever fic that I'm posting on this account, or on skz in general, so I hope you guys like it! My inbox is open, so hit me up ig?
Pairing: Bully-ish!Hyunjin x afab!Reader (enemies to lovers)
18+ minors dni!!!
CW: Unprotected sex, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, fucking in a public area, but no one comes inside!
WC: 3.3k
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Love is a fickle thing, it always starts with an infatuation. You constantly think about them, yearn for them, cry for them. Surround yourself with the things they like in hopes of finding something in common.
You never felt you could find this sense of attraction. You watched as people fell in and out of love, but for you, it was just a figment of your imagination. 
There was only one time you were close enough to “love” someone, but instead of the feeling of contentment, it was one of hatred. You were infatuated with him, but not in the way that most would be, you could only see the negative, blinded by hatred for the man in front of you. 
He was in your art class, while you worked with clay pieces, he worked with watercolors. Everyone was in awe of his work, especially your professor. 
There were always subtle tones of love in every one of his paintings. It was his main emotion, his main drive, and it was truly beautiful.
The first time you ever saw one of his paintings was when you accidentally stumbled upon it, it being left in the classroom to dry as he went to go get coffee. 
You were working on one of your structures, an entangled face that showed a range of emotions. It was something that you wanted to achieve to show the complexity of the human mind, of emotions, but you ended up getting distracted by his painting.
You stood in front of it for what felt like hours, looking over each brush stroke, each blend of color, it was beautiful. You hadn’t realized you were crying, a few tears wetting your cheek until Hyunjin was in front of you holding out a tissue. 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry” you tripped over your words as you took the tissues from his hand, thanking him. “It’s no problem, I’m actually very grateful” 
“And why is that?” you asked, dabbing the tissue at your tear ducts.“My work has never brought someone to tears” he grinned, taking a sip of his iced americano, the condensation of the drink ran down his cup like your tears just moments prior. 
“I don’t know how it hasn’t, the way you depict love is truly extraordinary, I’ve yet to see anything like it before. It isn’t even your form of painting, nor the medium, but the way you can feel the emotion pouring through the artist into their art is magnificent” 
“Such high praise from the teacher’s pet, what did I do to deserve this?” he chuckled, sitting back at his easel, playing with the brushes in the palm of his hand. 
“I’m not the teacher's pet” you glared at him, hating the way your voice stuttered as you spoke out against his accusations. “You most definitely are” he rolled his eyes, causing your eyebrows to furrow, “how else are you affording all your materials while others have much crappier ones? T-E-A-C-H-E-R’S P-E-T” he stated, enunciating every note at the end of his sentence.  
You glared at him, not feeling the need to prove yourself against his harmful words. No longer wanting to be belittled, you turned around, the clay that was previously stuck to your hands cracking. 
You tried to ignore him, truly, but every time you thought you were no longer going to see his face, there he appeared. 
At first, it was at your job, he would come at least three times a day, getting his daily Iced Americano fix. 
“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink more than one of these a day?” you asked, it was slower today so you had time to talk to him as he paid. 
“Wow, she speaks!” he exclaimed, slowly pulling out his card. “I thought you were taking a vow of silence seeing as every time you don’t even ask me what I want. I thought customer service helps you keep your job?” he joked, tilting his head to the side. 
“Well, my manager said it was okay to ignore dicks, so I think that’s what I’m doing!” you grinned, using your ‘customer service voice’ as he just rolled his eyes at you. 
“You would love to see my dick” he whispered, coming closer to the register so only you could hear him. 
Through a smile, you muttered, “If it’s anything like your personality, I bet it’s disgusting and nothing special!” 
He just tsked at you, walking away as someone had finally entered the little coffee place, coming up to the register to place their order. 
The next place was in your own apartment. You had no idea that your roommate, Felix, was close friends with the devil incarnate. 
“Why does he have to come over?” you whined, your body clad in overalls and a tank top as you took a bite of the warm brownie that he had made to help bring you to the “dark side”. 
As you took another bite, you didn’t realize the chocolate that was oozing out of the fudgy dessert, getting on the corner of your mouth. 
“He’s my best friend, plus I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s like so nice to everyone, not to mention isn’t he your type? I do remember you loooove tall guys, people who are into are, and love reading. He checks all of your boxes babe” he giggled, watching as you glared at him, cheeks filled with the brownies he made you. 
“That doesn’t forgo him being one of the worst people I’ve ever met like he’s such a fucking asshole” you groaned, taking a sip of milk. 
“Hey! That “asshole” happens to be my best friend, so don’t talk about him like that or I’m cutting you off!” 
For such a small and kind dude, he sure had a fiery side to him. You simply nodded your head, lowering it in defeat, allowing him to pet it. 
He began to coo at you as he stroked your hair back. “Look at you being such a good roommate” he giggled, feeding you more of the brownie, which you happily accepted. 
“Now I have to go shower, so if he comes, please open the door for him and make him feel a bit welcome?” Lixie grinned at you, bopping your nose as you nodded your head, not wanting to be a nuisance to your friend. 
You scrolled on your phone, your legs hitting the cabinets underneath the counter you were currently situated on before you heard the jingle of the door knob. Before you could even jump down, the door opened itself, Hyunjin in front of it key in hand. 
“Felix, I can’t wait to tell you about this–” he cut himself off as he saw you, legs jangling off of the kitchen counter, phone in one hand, brownie in the other. 
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you a stalker or something?” he groaned, placing his stuff on the couch, only for his hands to cross over his body, trying to prove a point. 
“I live here, Felix is my roommate and I’m going back to my room,” you said as kindly as you possibly could, not wanting to upset Lix after he politely asked you not to be a dick. 
“I don’t believe it, you want me that bad you made up an entire scheme to try and sleep with me, I mean I know I’m irresistible, but still that’s a new low.” 
Before he could continue spewing nonsense, you took his hand dragging it to your room. You opened the door allowing him to look inside. Your bra on the floor, your bed made but a bit crumpled from sitting on it earlier, and pictures of you and your friends littering the walls. 
“Is this enough proof for you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side waiting for his response. 
Instead, he took your face in the palm of his hand, his thumb first stroking your chin then slowly shifting down to the corner of your lip. He pulled you a bit closer, your eyes roaming his face, and your breath was caught in your throat. You thought he was going to kiss you, he pulled away with a laugh. 
“What a loser, you had chocolate all over your face while trying to talk to me. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?” he grinned, placing the thumb that was just rubbing at the corner of your lip into his mouth, savoring the taste. 
“You mean nothing to me, so why would I care?” you shrugged, taking your wallet in your hand before slowly moving away from your dorm frame to the entrance of your apartment. 
“Tell Felix I’m not going to be back for dinner” With that you left, leaving Hyunjin dumbfounded in the middle of your apartment. 
He was just trying to play hard to get, but you were still not getting it. Did you not notice that he went out of his way to go to the coffee shop that was out of his way, only on days you were working? How he spent hours in the classroom with you just to hear what song you were obsessed with that week, it was like you were oblivious to his infatuation with you. You couldn’t be that dumb, could you?
The last and most hated place to see him was the studio. It was your sanctuary, sure your room meant a lot to you, your own private space, but while working on your art, everything was basically white noise.
From the moment you put on your headphones, you are lost in a trance. The only thing on your mind is the piece in front of you and how you could make it better from the last. 
You were so immersed in your work, that you didn’t realize that Hyunjin had entered the room, working on his own piece.  
Almost an hour had passed as the two of you sat working on your respective pieces. What you didn’t notice was that he was on the phone. You could see his lips moving, but you didn’t think much of it, partly because you didn’t care enough, and the other half was because your favorite song was playing and you had forgotten about him.
It wasn’t until your headphones died that you finally heard the words leaving his mouth. 
“She’s so fucking cute, but I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I like her yet. Like why else would I go to her coffee shop 3 times a day Felix? And don’t say it’s because I have a coffee addiction, I know that, but I only go there to see her. And fuck, did you see her at Bin’s party, that short skirt I thought I was going to cum right there and then. How difficult is it for her to see that I like her?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands.
You didn’t even realize that you dropped your bowl of water until he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his. Before you could properly react, he quickly hung up the phone, walking towards you. 
You didn’t even realize, but you had started to run away, but you had nowhere to hide. You squatted down, trying to shield your body from him, but it only allowed him to come closer to you. 
“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” he asked as he crouched down to meet your height.
You didn’t respond, instead just nodding your head, which caused him to groan. He slowly pulled your hands away from your face, his hand on your chin. 
“I like you” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. “Okay?” you responded, your voice quieter than his. 
“Let me show you” and with that, he captured your lips with his, pulling your body closer to him. Your lips were working in tandem as he wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands flying to the back of his neck, allowing him to pick you up. 
He pulled both of your bodies up, leading you to the closest desk, not allowing the two of you to break your kiss. His tongue licking at the seam of your mouth, begging for an entrance. 
You allowed it, your breaths getting heavier as he pushed his cock into the seam of your leggings, the room filled with your whimpers as he pressed deeper into you, allowing you to feel the hardness of him through his jeans. 
He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you. “Fuck” you whined as he slowly pulled down your leggings, the cool air causing goosebumps to riddle your legs and arms. 
“Look at this pretty little cunt” he whispered, admiring the way your lips pushed against the cotton of your underwear. “Can’t wait to eat it” he grinned, tearing off your underwear causing you to shout. 
“Hyunjin what the fuck, I never said you could do that?” but you were cut off by the feeling of his plush lips against your clit, lapping away. Your hands instantaneously grasped his hair, pushing him deeper into you, allowing the only thought on his mind to be your pussy. 
You moaned as he continued lapping at it, learning every curve, where you loved being touched. He wanted to understand you, know what made you tick, he wanted to make you his. 
He slowly brought his hand up to your cunt, his finger teasing your hole before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Do you like that baby?” he whispered into your cunt, the vibration on your clit causing your eyes to roll back. 
“Feels so good” you whimpered as you lowered yourself, your back hitting the table. 
He didn’t want to stop until he made you cum in his mouth, he needed to taste you after chasing you for months. He slowly added another finger, thrusting it inside of your soaking hole, his other hand grabbing your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 
“Gonna cum Jinnie” you whimpered, your high being near. As soon as the word Jinnie left your lips, he felt like he was going to cum, the sound of you moaning his name was ringing in his ears and he needed to hear it again and again. 
“Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl?” 
“Yes, gonna cum for Jinnie” you whimpered, your orgasm taking control of your body, it twitching under the feeling of his fingers continuously thrusting into you, hitting that spongey spot in your repeatedly. 
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, kissing your lips once again. 
You could feel his cock pressing onto your thigh, it protruding through his jeans and all you could think about was making him feel good.  
“Want to make you feel good Jinnie” you whined, pulling away from his lips as your hands frantically went to his jeans, pulling them down to try and get access to his cock. There was a slight wet patch on his boxers, which made you whimper. 
“Please, need it” you whined, your hands trailing to your cunt, spreading your lips apart to show him how wet you were for him. 
“You are going to kill me baby” he grinned, pulling his boxers down, allowing his cock to hit his stomach. Your eyes looked at him in fear when you saw his size. He was long and thick, bigger than everyone you’ve ever been with. 
“Don’t tell me you are scared” he chuckled, running the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing your wetness along his tip. You shook your head, trying to prove to him that you weren’t. 
“It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow, let me get a condom” But before he could even reach into his jeans to get his wallet, you stopped him. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill, please need to feel all of you Jinnie” 
Who was he to say no to your cute pleading face, so he slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you, causing the two of you to moan. You at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and him at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock. 
His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt like you could cum from just his cock resting inside of you. 
“Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well, wish we did this before instead of all this bickering, it’s like you were made for me.” he moaned while slowly beginning to thrusting into you, making sure he wasn’t going to fast.
To ensure your comfort, and to get you closer to your high because he knew he wasn’t going to last long, he began playing with your clit. “Jinnie feels so good, you are so deep inside of me” you whimpered.
He took it as a sign to start thrusting into you deeper. Each thrush hits your g-spot perfectly. With the stimulation of his finger on your clit, you couldn’t do it anymore. You started clenching down on him harder and harder. 
Your cunt was locking him in and all he could do was groan. The final push was when he moaned directly into your ear. You came all over his cock letting your moans hit his ear. He pulled out of you stroking his cock “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he whined, feeling close.
“I want it in my mouth” you begged and that was all he needed. He slowly lifted your body from the table as you fell to your knees in front of him, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth. 
He shoved it deep inside, causing you to deep-throat it, and came straight down your throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner.” he grinned. 
“It’s all your fault, you were the bully” you whined, trying to find your leggings to pull over your body since the room had gotten significantly cooler. 
“We should get dressed though, we don’t need anyone else to know what we just did” he looked around frantically, a worried look on his face, causing you to laugh.
“You just fucked me on a desk, and now you are scared?” 
“Yes, because I had this whole plan of taking you out to dinner, and buying you this really pretty dress I saw that I thought looked perfect for you and everything” he pouted. 
He looked adorable like this, and you couldn’t believe it was the same man that made your life a living hell, that was now in front of you causing you to coo at his jutted lip. 
“You are so cute” you mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Maybe love starts off different for everyone. 
_____
You walked into your apartment, hand in hand. A grin splayed on his face as you fought with him about how drinking iced americanos more than twice a day was crazy, and how his heart was going to stop. 
The two of you didn’t even realize that Felix was in your living room until the two of you heard an “I fucking knew it!” 
He was whooping and hollering around your apartment. “I knew it was going to start with this enemies-to-lover type shit and then boom y’all are going to fuck” 
Before the two of you could even utter a single word, he stopped you by continuing. “Please tell me it wasn’t on our shared couch though, it doesn’t need to be fucked on a second time” 
“You what!” you looked at him with fury in your eyes, Hyunjin just laughed at the spectacle playing out in front of him, damn he loved you. 
639 notes · View notes
suzukiblu · 5 months
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Day twenty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
“Maybe just an outfit or two,” Kon says, blushing furiously in the direction of the mall fountain. Tim considers pressing his luck with jewelry, but figures he can sneak accessories in later. Like, subtly. Or just incredibly blatantly and shamelessly, which is probably likelier to work on Kon anyway. And shoes, while he's at it. 
“You did promise me a fashion show,” Tim reminds him. Kon manages to blush darker, but also grins. 
“Guess I did,” he says, then wags his eyebrows at him. “Think they'll let us in the changing rooms together?” 
Tim's brain instantly self-liquidates and leaks out his ears and ruins his shirt, or at least it really feels like it does. 
“I think you can always sneak me in if we have to,” he says with a smirk, using every single drop of his Bat-training to look and sound like a normal person making a lighthearted joke and not a desperately horny five-alarm fire who is suddenly thinking thoughts. 
Kon laughs, so apparently it works, thank god. 
Tim takes advantage of the granted permission to get Kon to the closest department store and clothes-hunting, which to be honest he's not particularly sure how to do correctly because he mostly shops while thinking things like “how do I make myself look like a normal teenage civilian from Bristol?” and less things like “what would my very attractive teammate who doesn't know how to be a normal teenage civilian from anywhere most like to wear?” He mostly just nods encouragingly while Kon looks at things and helps him pick the right sizes. 
Also he tries not to be reduced to a desperately horny five-alarm fire every time Kon asks his opinion about a shirt or whatever and then listens to it. 
He has no idea why he's so into the idea of Kon wearing clothes he suggested or picked out, but Jesus, he just really is. Note to self: never let himself pick out Kon's clothes if the team has to go undercover or incognito or anything like that. Outsource that one to Cissie or maybe Cassie, just for the sake of his focus. 
. . . actually, maybe not Cassie. Cassie might have similar issues to his current ones, if they let her dress Kon. 
. . . . . . then again, if he lets Cassie dress Kon, then he has plausible deniability if Kon ends up in–never mind. 
He probably needs to just stop thinking about this, he decides. Though that’d be easier if Kon stopped asking his opinion, probably. Like–just a little. 
“What about this?” Kon asks thoughtfully, looking at a mannequin wearing a fitted bright red tank top that’s half mesh and a pair of black leather pants so tight that they could pass for leggings. There are belts. And buckles. And . . . straps. 
Tim is pretty sure he’s not going to manage to stop thinking about this. 
“If you try that on in front of me, we’re getting banned from this store,” he says frankly, telling himself he’s joking. Kon laughs, so that helps. 
Tim is definitely not joking, though. 
“Maybe the fire engine red is too obvious,” Kon says, giving him a sly grin and walking past the display. “Gotta stay classy, right? Go a little subtle.” 
Tim’s traitor of a brain pictures various takes on Kon dressing up “classy” and he suffers for it. Goddammit. 
“We should get you something dressy too, actually,” he says, and Kon looks briefly puzzled. 
“What for?” he asks. 
“Well, what if I want to take you somewhere with a dress code?” Tim says with a shrug. Kon probably wouldn’t be into, like, live theater or any kind of formal concert or art gallery event or anything like that, but a nicer restaurant or something, at least. 
“I don’t think places with dress codes want me there,” Kon says with another laugh, shaking his head. 
“I don’t care,” Tim says. “I want you there.” 
Kon lets out another abrupt laugh, then flees between two of the taller racks as his face reddens again. Tim hopes that’s because he’s flustered, not because he thinks he’s being weird. 
He really needs to work on his flirting. He’s kind of just fumbling around mostly-blind here and hoping he hits on something Kon’s into. It’s not like Tim Drake is actually Kon’s type, but if Kon’s just testing the waters with a guy for once, well, he probably wouldn’t care about that anyway. Tim’s still not sure if this is just him experimenting or not. Kon hasn’t said anything about not mentioning all this to anyone, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he wants anyone knowing either. 
Kon had looked a little weird when Tim had made that crack about explaining him to his dad earlier, come to think. Being nervous about being mentioned or ID’ed would explain that reaction. 
Tim peers into the racks after Kon and finds him with a messy pile of clothes in his arms, doing a very committed job of pretending to be very invested in a table covered in T-shirts with either superhero emblems or cheesy puns on them. Tim has to repress a snort of laughter, but the idea of Kon wearing a “talk nerdy to me” shirt is objectively hilarious. He's pretty sure Kon would sooner eat kryptonite than listen to nerd talk. 
“Find anything good?” he asks. Kon grins sheepishly at him. 
“Maybe,” he says. “Wanna hit the changing rooms?” 
Tim desperately does but also probably should not. However, he also probably shouldn't be a teenage vigilante who lies to his dad about what he does all night and fights random Gotham rogues with an extendable bo staff and obsessive detective work and very little else. 
“Sure, yeah,” he says because of the part of him that stalked Batman and counted flips and broke into a memorial for a Robin costume, and then he follows Kon to said changing rooms. Kon beelines right for them, which seems weird because it's not like he's been to this mall before and they definitely didn't pass them, so–“How did you know where they were?” 
Kon grins slyly at him, adjusting the pile of clothes in his arms. 
“‘Versatile’, remember?” he says. Tim's confused for a second, then realizes–
“Did you check the store layout with TTK?” he asks in bewilderment. 
“You kidding?” Kon asks with a laugh. “More like the mall layout.” 
“Like . . . right now?” Tim asks, still more bewildered. Kon looks smug. 
“They just made a new batch of pretzels back at that pretzel stand,” he says. 
. . . Tim needs a moment. Or a lifetime. 
“You can just . . . do that?” he asks. “Feel whatever’s going on in your range?” 
“Yeah,” Kon says. “Honestly, it's kinda distracting sometimes. Makes it hard to focus, you know? So I try to tune it out when I can, but sometimes it comes in handy on the job when there's, like, a hidden door or something. Though it's easier when I'm just walking around like this, ironically.” 
Tim has absolutely no way to explain how useful “can make an accurate map of an entire mall and possibly then some just by standing in it” actually is as a skill, to say nothing of spotting secret doors or hidden safes or concealed assassins or anything like that. If he'd known Kon could do that sooner, he'd have been starting every single mission in an unknown environment by making Kon do that. 
Crap, now he has to trick Kon into telling Robin he can do that as soon as possible. Tim has no idea how Kon didn't lead with that trick, though. That is like–that is just–he thinks maybe TTK is just broken. Like, as a power. He thinks Cadmus gave Kon a literal cheat code for life, in fact. If this were a video game, Kon would need to be immediately nerfed or no one would ever play any other character. 
Tim despairs for his capacity to ever be normal about this bastard and follows him into one of the bigger changing rooms, resigned to his fate. Kon has no apparent concern for the five-item limit and there isn’t an attendant around to stop them, so he just takes the whole pile of clothes in and dumps it on one half of the bench. Tim’s not sure if he’s leaving the other half free for discards or for him, so–
“Sit back and enjoy the show, man,” Kon says as he flashes him a bright grin before peeling off his sweater, which answers that question pretty quick. Also, nearly evaporates Tim’s sanity. Kon’s literally still wearing his damn suit underneath and it nearly evaporates his sanity; what even is that? 
He is in so, so much trouble here, isn’t he.
345 notes · View notes
seonghwaddict · 2 months
Text
ateez fic recs!
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🧸 lilo’s notes! here is a collection of works that i loved and thought everyone should read! works marked with a bear emoji are some of my favs. i’ll be updating the list, of course. this list contains both sfw and nsfw content, minors please interact accordingly.
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hongjoong
he’s kinda hot — @ohmyamor
“After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have demon who refuses to leave you alone.”
demon!hongjoong, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, please see content warning before reading, suggestive
lilo’s notes! i absolutely love demon!atz aus and i can testify that this is definitely one of my favs. everything about this was absolutely fantastic and i may or may not revisit it every few weeks
you’re hongjoong’s bias — @jnginlov
“when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you”
idol au, fluff, gn!reader
lilo’s notes! listen… idol aus are usually not my cup of tea (though several fics on here prove that wrong), but this is absolutely one of the cutest things i’ve read.
seonghwa
new horizons — @fivestar-outlaw
“Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.”
completed series, FLUFF, idol!hwa x nonidol!fem!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! EEEEEEE THIS FIC IS SO CUTEEEEEE
🧸 honest (but happy) accident — @ad0rechuu
uni student!hwa, gn!reader, fluff, slice of life
lilo’s notes! y’all are gonna get so sick of me cuz you’re gonna see multiple of zero’s fics on here. jokes aside, this is genuinely so fucking cute i was rolling around and giggling while reading it.
🧸 12:25 time of love — @jaehunnyy
kindergarten teacher!hwa, mom!reader, meet cute, fluff
lilo’s notes! imagining seonghwa in a job like that genuinely makes me so soft. whenever i’m in that Emotional mood i like to read this.
🧸 impressionism — @hwaightme
“a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art?”
vampire!gallerist!hwa x art historian!gn!reader, fluff, soulmates
lilo’s notes! as an art history nerd, this fic is so beautiful especially when combined with a vampire au like AHHHH some of my fav things in one fic
yunho
early hours — @honeyhotteoks
“you run into him in the hallway of the hotel, it's late and you're exhausted from the concert, but he thinks you should grab a drink and you can't help but agree”
idol!yunho x nonidol!fem!reader, one night stand, nsfw, some fluff
lilo’s notes! HDJSJDJSJKF the way this had me glued to my phone and giggling should be studied.
🧸 principia and opticks — @bro-atz
“you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class” // “you and professor jeong yunho decided to continue your relationship secretly, only to almost get caught one day”
professor!yunho x student!reader (legal), nsfw, fluff
lilo’s notes! don’t judge me but i think professor x student (COLLEGE. LEGAL.) is such a good trope it’s always gonna have me running laps around my room.
bottle service — @bro-atz
“all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.”
big dick!yunho x small!afab!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! i have nothing to say for myself other than size kinks are hot. even more so when it’s related to yunho
christmas dinner — @a1sh1teruu
“it didn't just end with one dinner.”
ceo!yunho x secretary!fem!reader, fluff
lilo’s recs! THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ME AGHHHHHHHH i love it so much i think about it at least once a week
🧸 summer nights — @honeyhotteoks
“he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.”
roommate!yunho, nsfw, fluff
lilo’s notes! i reread this yesterday and realised there’s a sequel. TRUST i will be devouring that as soon as i can
track 3: cyber sex — @highvern
whipped loser!yunho x camgirl!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! STOPPIJDIDJ yunho was so cute and shy in this i wanted to scream into a pillow
yeosang
🧸 lessons in intimacy — @honeyhotteoks
“you didn’t mean to actually meet the man who’s audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do”
camboy!yeo, nsfw, fluff
lilo’s notes! absolute perfection this was so sjsjjcjsjd i could feel myself slowly losing my mind
evolve — @nebulousbrainsoup
“more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them.”
biker!yeosang x fem!reader, fluff, nsfw, some angst
lilo’s notes! despite it being 12k words i gobbled it up in a single sitting which is crazy tbh, it didn’t feel that long at all and i was so invested
san
🧸 prelude in e minor — @bro-atz
“your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi”
professor!san, CELLIST!san, nsfw, angst
lilo’s notes! back at it with the professor aus yupppp y’all know me so well. i felt so many emotions while reading this i thought i was gonna go insane.
mingi
🧸 slowly, i’m going down — @yutasbellybuttonpiercing
“mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.”
college au, tutor!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! not only was this written so well, but it was so fucking entertaining. mingi is just so silly in this i love it.
angel eyes — @binniesbang
“Yunho teases Mingi when he trips over his words infront of a girl, he needs a little loving to make it better:((“
coffee shop au, fluff, comfort
lilo’s notes! AHHHHHHHH sobbing crying screaming this was so cute and soft i love this mingi
🧸 untitled — @teasteeper
“kissing practice with your best friend mingi”
best friend!mingj x fem!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! GRRRSGHDJDJD OH MY GOD mingi you ain’t slick at all- anyways, my turn when?
wooyoung
ribbon — @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
“You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.”
daddy!wooyoung, nsfw
lilo’s notes! they be fucking but somehow it’s so??? cute?? really enjoyed this one 10/10
spiderman! — @cherrysoojins
“being spider-man comes with a lot advantages, but those advantages can have their disadvantages. like jung wooyoung not being able to show up to study groups to be able to see the girl he’s crushing on big-time.”
spiderman!wooyoung, smau + written, fluff, angst, crack. ongoing(?) series, last updated: july 7th, 2023
lilo’s notes! this was actually such a cute and fun fic and i really wished there were more chapters :c
backstage rockin’ — @a1sh1teruu
“after a late night of practice with the band, and with you lounging in the background. when his friends finally left, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer.”
bandmate!wooyoung, nsfw
lilo’s notes! i think this was THE fic that awakened my love for bassists, that’s how good it was. zerda’s writing always has me giggling
jung wooyoung’s superpower — @ad0rechuu
best friend!wooyoung, fluff fluff fluff
lilo’s notes! ik i’ve probably said this a lot but this is ACTUALLY one of the cutest fics i’ve ever read i adore it so much
🧸 i’m just bein’ curious — @teeskz
“in which your friend wooyoung invites you over for a movie night”
pervy best friend!woooyung, nsfw
lilo’s notes! it’s short but if i said this didnt awaken something in me, i’d be lying. i reread it this morning and that’s what made me start this rec list
jongho
🧸 adorable — @i-luvsang
frenemy!jongho, gn!reader one bed trope, fluff, comedy
lilo’s notes! AHHHHH I LOVE RIA’S WRITING SO SO SO MUCH fluff by ria is genuinely so djdjdjsjd it’s got me giggling
untitled — @nateezfics
nsfw, fluff
lilo’s notes! i’m sorry but idc if they’re going at it, it’s so cute and soft?? they’re just so silly
multi
🧸 milky way — @ad0rechuu
“It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…”
fanboys!hwasangi x idol!reader, smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive, slow burn. completed series, 60 chapters + 3 different endings
lilo’s notes! i will never not be grateful that this series exists. it’s funny, cute, and angsty and i absolutely love it with my whole heart. i think it’s one of the first fics i read on tumblr, so it’s really special to me + i think this was part of the reason i got close to my lovely zero
🧸 blurred lines and lies — @yuyusuyu
the synopsis is really long
best friend!yeosang x fem!reader x best friend!jongho, love triangle, romance, slice of life, angst. completed series, 10 chapters + 2 different endings
lilo’s notes! words cannot describe how i felt reading this but i think it’s comparable to going through every stage of grief possible plus more. genuinely, one of the best fics i’ve ever read
strawberry mocha — @pirateprincessblog
“your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage”
barista!camboy!wooyoung x fem!reader, ft yunho, nsfw, angst
lilo’s notes! my thought process while reading was a cycle of “oh my god” and “what the fuck” in the BEST way possible. the writing is so good i wanted to reach through the screen a smack some characters, and hug some others
clair de lune — @atzfilm
“you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?”
yandere!ot8 x fem!reader, angst, fluff, nsfw. completed series, 8 chapters.
lilo’s notes! so iconic. if you haven’t read this, you better and that’s a threat.
murphy’s law — @atzfilm
“according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.”
alien!ot8, multi x fem!reader (not ot8), soulmate au, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. completed series, 5 chapters.
lilo’s notes! another iconic fic by an iconic writer, we love to see it
mists of celeste — @hongism
“Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.”
space pirate!ateez, multiple pairings, angst, fluff, nsfw, check other warnings. ongoing series, 49 chapters + additional content
lilo’s notes! i’m pretty sure everyone on tumblr who reads atz fics has seen this one at some point and it definitely deserves its hype. this is probably one of the best, well thought-out fics i’ve ever read and i believe it can definitely be considered better than many published books
🧸 hotel california and paradise gardens — @mint-yooxgi
“You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.” // “Eternity means nothing if I don’t have you.”
yandere!demon!ot8 x fem!reader, horror, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. complete fic, 42 chapters combined
lilo’s notes! yeah i reread this every few months and i’m not ashamed to admit i’m obsessed with it.
outlaw miniseries — @hongism
individual parts for each member/unit, nsfw with a side of fluff and angst. ongoing series, 4/6 chapters
lilo’s notes! hi no i won’t shut up about hongism i think ive read everything she’s published and if i didn’t want to make this list diverse i would’ve just put a link to her masterlist and called it a day. seriously, highly recommended. my fav on this is the 2ho one.
from storm to sunrise — @ad0rechuu
“you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found”
fem!reader x bfs!yuyu and mingi, fluff, mild angst
lilo’s notes! zero try not to write something i’ll fall in love challenge, go! oh no you already failed because everything by user ad0rechuu is a masterpiece
🧸 hooked — @songmingisthighs
“A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your ‘relationship’ led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you?”
ot8 x fem!reader, smau + written, college au, fluff, crack, nsfw. completed series, 91 chapters
lilo’s notes! this is also one of the first fics i read on tumblr!! it’s definitely one of my all-time favs and it’s just such a fun read
🧸 unconventional first encounters with ateez — @bluehwale
ot8 headcanon, fluff, humour
lilo’s notes! i also reread this occasionally, the humour tag really is accurate
hongwooho — @yourfatherlucifer
idols!hongjoong, wooyoung, jongho x fem!reader, nsfw
lilo’s notes! the first time i read this (and all the times after that) i was giggling and rolling around on my bed. this kind if scenario is something i’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to see more of
sway with me — @luvt0kki
“former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home… and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet. // but he hasn’t met one person of the crew… and he didn’t know that.”
ot8 x fem!reader, space pirate au, nsfw, fluff. ongoing series, 5/?? chapters + 1 interlude
lilo’s notes! i gobbled the posted chapters up in a single sitting and it was honestly sososo good 10/10 recommend. i can definitely see this being added to my favs as soon as it’s done!
🧸 ¡arriba! — @teeskz
“being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.”
hongjoong, yunho, san, mingi, wooyoung x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, part of a series (“T!TS UP”)
lilo’s notes! NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND I WAS GAGGEDDDDDD the way i had to pause multiple times to cool off while reading this it was so hot and something i didn’t know i needed in my life until i found it
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babyleostuff · 9 months
Note
Pls pls make an ot13 fic wherein the reader is an actress and an idol at the same time and she get paired with svt and they have a kissing scene or an intimate one. without anyone knowing, theyre daiting and the amount of teasing the members eill receive??? Just like juns recent drama
members teasing each other because of an intimate scene in a drama | ot13
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGCHEOL
He’d try to pull the leader card, but it would NOT work, whatsoever. The teasing he’d get from Mingyu would be ASTRONOMICAL (he’d waited his entire life for that). It would also be Chan’s villain origin story, because that would be the perfect opportunity to take revenge for all those years the teasing (you can practically hear him laughing maniacally in the distance).
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEONGHAN
I feel like it could go two ways. He’d either be like: “you guys stoooop” (shy bean) or “I know, that kiss was hot, right?” (wink wink). Even though they would definitely tease him, he wouldn’t care that much. At least he gets all the edits and thirst traps now.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JOSHUA
They would give him a bottle of water with a label “holy water” and run off. But in the end, despite all the teasing, Joshua would not be bothered. He has better things to do (read: sing “Sunday morning” while crying over his cringy kissing scenes).
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JUN
Well, looking at what is going on right now, we can tell that he gets some amount of teasing, but a lot of praise too. I think generally with Jun, they are proud of him for pursuing acting and showing his talent in something other than singing and dancing. Still, I feel like he kind of hibernated for the first 48h after the release, to avoid the clowning of the members (but he has seen the memes).
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOSHI
Villain origin story, part two: Mingyu edition. It would be his time to take revenge for all the mafia games AND HE WOULD NOT HOLD BACK. That man would follow Soonyoung everywhere and just clown him MASSIVELY. Soonyoung would have to lock himself in his house to avoid Mingyu and even then, the younger would spam him with messages.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WOOZI
At first they wouldn’t dare to tease him. They would be afraid that he’d close off after coming out of his comfort zone and starting in a drama. Jihoon’d be actually ready for the teasing, so when it never came, he’d be like ???. That’s when they’d release all their inner jokes about the drama and his performance (especially the steamy scenes). He would laugh with them and not mind the teasing.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WONWOO
He’d take it all like a champion. Nothing can break Jeon Wonwoo. Except for when he’d be alone. Then he’d turn into a babygirl and be like:🥺🫶, guys can you stop, please? But he would never tell that to their faces. Because he’s Jeon Wonwoo. 💪🏼.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DK
They would not tease him. Period. Instead of teasing it would be all love and praise. They would practically be shitting hearts and rainbows, because of how proud they are of him.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGYU
Thank god they aren’t living together anymore, because he’d HAVE to move out then. The group chat would be on fire after the first episode and the next day at work would be hell on earth for him. Some of the boys would take their time to learn some of the lines that they found particularly cringy and clown him with them. They'd also make kissy noises at him. He’d start to think about debuting as a solo artist.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGHAO
There would be no point in teasing Minghao. Would not care. Would not find the teasing amusing. Would probably turn the whole situation around and make fun of the boys instead. It’s all for the art baby.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGKWAN
The moment any of the members would even open their mouth to breath, he’d yell and walk out of the room. After a second though, he’d reappear and start explaining how it is all in the name of art and what it means to be a real actor (it'd turn out that Jeonghan only wanted to ask what they wanted for dinner).
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ VERNON
I feel like the members wouldn’t actually tease him THAT much. They’d be proud of him for doing something out of his comfort zone and trying something new. Yeah, surely there would be some teasing, but it’d more like love and praise 🥰 >>>>> teasing.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DINO
He. Does. Not. Care. Come on, after that many years of being teased and “bullied”, he would not give a single fuck. They’d try to make fun of him, but quickly give up, as they'd realise it didn’t faze their youngest, whatsoever. Chan would enjoy all the tiktoks and memes though.
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steddieficrec · 1 month
Note
do u have any recs for fics where eddie accidently comes out to steve or steve accidently finds out and eddie panic’s thinking steve is gonna hate him but steve obvs doesnt
This took forever I know! But I wanted to actually make a list and ended up finding new ones that I love and some re-reads. I hope you enjoy it.
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Pretty, Pretty Boys by starsdontsleep
(1/1 I 4,097 I Teen)
Steve knows that Eddie is gay, what he doesn't expect is to hear so many details about the guys that the metalhead has hooked up with or is interested in approaching. He also doesn't expect to feel so bothered—so annoyed and uncomfortable about it.
Or, 5 times Steve was unhappy about Eddie being with or talking about another guy. 1 time Eddie was unhappy about Steve doing the same (but didn’t need to be).
Questions & Answers by starsdontsleep
(1/1 I 6,781 I Mature)
Steve doesn’t have a problem with Eddie being gay, but he does have questions which end up leading to practical demonstrations.
smoking guns (hot to the touch) by fivecenturiesverse
(1/1 I 7,590 I Teen)
Sure, they've saved the world, but the best part of that really is that it doesn't end there and in a town where everyone thinks he murdered a girl, he's at least got Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. It's really not his fault he accidentally starts living at Steve's house, he was invited, after all. There's a mystery too, about Barbara Holland and Steve's pool.
“Your boner is digging into me,” says Robin, and Steve snorts a tired sort of laugh. “I don’t have a —” “You do, I can feel it. Gross.” “Okay, but it’s only a little one,” he says in a small voice which sounds like he’s impersonating someone. “Are you ever going to let that go? I peed a little bit when the Russians got the torture devices out, okay?” She sounds amused, though. Eddie jolts. “Russian torture devices?” Robin carries on like she didn’t hear him but Steve catches his eye and he’s grinning. “How do you even have a boner dude? You were definitely having a nightmare I know your twitching means a nightmare… Did you have a boner over Vecna?”
Dirty Words by morningberries
(1/1 I 10,207 I Explicit)
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
OR
“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.
Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.
Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by gr0gu
(4/4 I 16,996 I Teen)
It wasn't supposed to go like this.
Steve was supposed to work with Robin at the Family Video, flirt with the many many girls who came to browse the expansive selection of VHSes, go on some dates, and hopefully find The One.
It was supposed to be a notably upside-down free year.
And, hey, for what it's worth? He wasn't supposed to be pinned down on a mattress by Eddie Munson either.
And he certainly wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.
But that's getting a bit ahead of things
The Worst Mixtape Ever Made by nbfutureboy
(10/10 I 17,999 I Mature)
“It’s a gift, so you gotta listen to the whole thing, okay? I think-- I think it’s got what it takes.”
There’s an art to making a mixtape - and Steve Harrington has decidedly ignored all semblance of art in creating a mixtape for Eddie Munson. Too bad Eddie’s fascinated with how impressively terrible his song choices are.
took you for a working boy by pukner
(6/6 I 46,823 I Mature)
"Do you--Harrington, do you know other gay people?" "One," Steve says, and then, after a moment, "and a half." "And a half?" Eddie boggles at him, "What does that mean?" "He's figuring it out!" says Steve, defensively, "Taking his time, y'know? Whatever, the point is. It's cool you're gay, man."
Eddie comes out to Steve, and Steve's heartbroken about it for some reason. Eddie thinks Steve's dating Robin. Everyone else thinks Steve and Eddie have been dating this whole time. Robin doesn't get paid enough for this shit.
Also, Hawkins has been cracked open like a badly-baked cake, and everyone's settled into the most mundane apocalypse possible. Eddie Munson starts a radio programme about it.
Meanwhile, Steve gets his nails painted, and outsources a crisis he isn't having.
start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket
(10/10 I 85,554 I Explicit)
Eddie Munson died on March 27th, 1986.
This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.
No, wait. That’s not right. That’s Hitchhiker's Guide. Or was it Restaurant at the End of the Universe? Whatever, not important.
Eddie Munson died on March 27th, 1986.
Except…he didn’t. He couldn’t have. Because Eddie Munson is currently arguing with himself in his fucking head about sci-fi quotes, which doesn’t feel especially like something that a dead person would have the capacity to do.
The bats had killed him. There had been pain, and the sick sensation of tearing flesh. He’d had to swallow past a mouthful of his own blood to tell Henderson he loved him. Surely those were symptoms of imminent death.
And yet.
On April 1st, 1986, Eddie Munson opens his eyes in a dim hospital room. There’s a gasp from his left, and he tries to turn his head towards the source.
“Easy there, kid. They’ve got you trussed up pretty good.”
Eddie doesn’t need to see him. He’d know that voice anywhere, in any universe, hell dimension or otherwise.
“Uncle Wayne?”
A story about the families we find and the love that finds us.
Steady as He Goes by StrangerThings1975
(14/14 I 86,759 I Explicit)
Steve and Eddie are under the misconception that they dislike each other.
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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Okay but imagine Leon having a hispanic/latino s/o? Like him being introduced to their family at parties and having to memorize all the cousins, him falling in love with all the aspects of their culture. Also i feel like he would love gustavo cerati???? Coming from a latina (boricua y dominicana) this has me kicking my feet and giggling!! Ly 💗!! - 🐚
Hi! This is the first time someone claimed an emoji! I feel so excited, hehe.
And I just noticed I often reply to these asks with just my thoughts not knowing if any of you want a whole fic 😭 If you want one let me know ‘cause I'm dense.
Regarding Gustavo Cerati… you're so real 🐚 anon. In fact, I'm preparing a post which is basically hispanic music I think Leon would like. And let me tell you, there are A LOT OF Cerati's songs. If you guys want to share your thoughts/suggest some artists or songs you're welcome to do so. 🙏🏻
Anyway, I could definitely see Leon being overjoyed dating someone hispanic/latino.
The term itself is really broad, so I'm going to leave the details of the culture as ambiguous as I can so everyone can imagine their own.
leon kennedy x gn reader (reader speaks spanish)
Leon himself isn't someone who actually got to spend his childhood and younger years next to a family, or at least a loving one. So, when he met you, he slowly discovered your upbringing and how beautiful your culture was.
It started with little things. When you first mentioned Leon where you come from, he'd search for one thing he really enjoys—music! He fully believes art is the door to a culture, so there's nothing better than getting to know your country by its artists and songs.
He'd need to translate them, though. He barely knows how to say hello in another language. But then again, he tries his best to actually engage in your culture and show genuine interest.
While he navigates through the songs, typical dances, and festivities, the next step is obvious. As your relationship gets more serious, you'd tell him that your family wants to meet him. He isn't scared, not all. He's actually really excited at the prospect of meeting your relatives and taking such a serious step with you.
However, he is nervous about something.You had previously told him that your family was big, and while it didn't bother him, he isn't confident about his ability to remember names.
Poor boy would be the target of your family's teasing. As soon as he enters your home, some of your relatives would give him a pat on his back, seeing how nervous he is. The whole experience would be overwhelming but in a good way.
You'd introduce him to every family member. He'd say his name as best as he could (He asked you to teach him a bit of Spanish, to at least impress some of your relatives).
Very basic and broken Spanish: “Hola yo me llamo Leon, ¿Cómo estás tú?” Baby is trying his best, and everyone could see how much respect he holds for their culture and language.
He's really respectful in every aspect you could think of. When the little mingling comes to an end and hunger starts to brim in each one of your relatives, Leon would be delighted to try everything.
As soon as he starts eating, there are two outcomes. A) He really likes the food. B) He doesn't like it. For the first scenario, he'd devour the plate. Having something prepared with so much seasoning and love was something foreign to him. He'd whisper and ask you to tell your mom if he could fetch himself another serving. He's too shy for his own good.
For the latter, he'd still remain as respectful as he could. It's okay not to like certain things, and while he tries to finish his plate your family would joke about how he couldn’t handle the spice (even if it wasn't spicy in the first place.)
His favorite activity to do with your family is to see your childhood photo album. They would pull out embarrassing photos of yourself, but he'd think you look lovely. In moments like these, he gets to bond with your family even more, feeling himself blending with them and being part of a family he always longed for.
Overall, Leon would find himself falling in love with you and your culture. No matter how different it's from his own upbringing, he'd be honored to share moments getting to know everything about your country.
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golby-moon · 2 months
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made a thing for the @destieldtiyschallenge secret valentine challenge that @sheepstiel set up (I guess, based on how other people are submitting these). I recreated @impmakesart's art piece from a bang fic, featuring Dean and Cas stargazing on the Impala (seen below)
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(added a copy of the original here since there are three art things there and I only did the one. also for easier comparisons and idk I don't think this is against the rules)
and here's the redraw
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I think I only drew the Impala one other time and that one was awful so I am kinda glad this one actually looks like a car even if that's only because I forced myself to actually use a reference. I also think I found the same reference the original artist used which was kind of a weird feeling. tried something new with the trees and I like how those came out at least. didn't even try making actual constellations or anything so don't look at those too closely uh
this whole challenge was definitely a learning experience at least and it was fun to recreate something someone else made, hope the gift isn't too disappointing. also I know the original doesn't have an outline around stuff but the car just blended in with the background too much so I added it
(in case it wasn't obvious I have no idea what I'm doing. I tried to format this like the other posts but nah I always talk in my posts and I wanted both images in there so I just did this instead)
(02/26/24)
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whore-for-chris-evans · 2 months
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I lack the wisdom required to write this fic, but I hope someone skilled enough takes the initiative to.
Have any of you ever thought about Steve Rogers waking up from the ice and not going back to fighting?
He wakes up, Fury tells him he needs him, and Steve makes a choice for himself and says no, at least for now. Fury respects that choice, Steve gets a therapist (a good one, not Dr. Christina Passive-Aggressive Raynor) and uses his second chance in life to do the things he actually wanted to. Art. History. Maybe he goes to college again.
On top of all this, he figures out the internet (come on, he's a smart man. He's not gonna be clueless forever) and you know golden boy Steve would jump at the chance of using social media for a good cause.
And I also think Steve would be great at debates. The fucker (affectionate) has a way with words. He's also a nerd. He's well informed and has quick thinking skills. He gets into online fights a lot. Tweets and retweets a hell lot.
Gets Tumblr. (Steve would love tumblr don't lie to me) Reblogs things like it's his last day on earth. (But somehow makes sure to utilise the tag feature perfectly so everything is organised).
Some dudebro makes a misogynistic comment and he's there to verbally drop kick Dudebro into the next week.
Somebody makes an offhand comment regarding something historical and Steve gets his trusty motorcycle and drives his star spangled fine ass to the library and the next day there's a video circulating the internet of him citing sources (down the page number, paragraph number and line number) to prove why the offhand comment was grossly incorrect.
Someone angrily reposts his tweet saying "THAT IS NOT THE AMERICA OF MY DREAMS TALKING" and Steve proceeds to respond with "I'm a person. I can't be a country. What I can try to be is a good human being." and then absolutely demolishes the other person. (Yes to Steve reclaiming himself as Steve Rogers and not Captain America)
He also posts art. Like, everyday. But it gets slightly overshadowed by everything else he does and says.
He has a separate Instagram. For more personal stuff. Pictures of himself? Rarely. Pictures of birds and animals and trees and sunrises and sunsets? Absolutely. Pictures of the cat and the dog he rescued and now is a proud dad to? Everyday. (He's definitely a both person.) Maybe someday he'll step out of his comfort zone and start going live. Everyone loves him. Everyone rational, that is.
He stays away from tiktok.
2014. Fury shows up at his apartment and gets shot. Something stirs in Steve's brain as the masked assassin catches his shield. Those eyes seem familiar. Despite his reservations, he jumps back into the fray. The whole CATWS thing happens.
He finds Bucky. Brings him home. Fights tooth and nail for the charges against him to be dropped. He's got 70 years of military back-pay, he's got no problem getting the best lawyers (Matt Murdock is definitely among them) for the love of his life.
Anyways Bucky is set free. Moves in with Steve. People start gushing over him too. He stays out of Steve's internet life at first, but then the old Bucky comes back little by little. Maybe he'll join the livestreams. Maybe he'll make an Instagram of his own to post more of Steve.
People, being people, start shipping them. The two of them have a good laugh over it.
One day, out of nowhere, Steve shows up on one of his livestreams wearing a wedding ring. Comments go crazy. Bucky joins him on the couch, throws an arm around his shoulder, flashing his own matching band, smirking lazily.
The rest is mayhem. But they don't care. For Steve, life is perfect.
[I'd love to see Steve Rogers vs internet troll he'd eat that up]
I hope the good Steve Rogers authors see this. This has potential I think.
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etaleah · 9 months
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Absolutely sucks that your blog is ravaged with proshipping apologia. Like yeah enjoying dark subject matter in fiction doesn't mean you condone it IRL (I myself am an avid gore and kink fan and use that to express my feelings in art) but uhhh there's a difference between depicting pedophilia in a story and actively jacking it to child porn which is what most if not all proshippers are trying to justify.
The Venn diagram between proshippers and anime lolicons is a circle. "Ohhh it's not real" yeah sure technically but that's still very much a child being raped on screen you're getting your rocks off to. Being in the second dimension doesn't negate that.
Most proshippers don't actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art. They just wanna write their incest rape South Park fics and call anyone who calls them out on it "puritans." (I doubt any of you really understand what that word means. If not liking child porn makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin fucking Mary.) It's all excuses, excuses.
Fiction affects reality more than you think. It's why propaganda is so effective. It's why Jim Crow and minstrelsy was (and still is tbh) so harmful to African Americans. Why do you think POC care about how they're depicted in media so much? It very much influences thinking, how people see the world.
(There is an argument to be made about the rampant racism in fandom, but that's a whole other conversation.)
Don't dismiss this ask. I want you to read it very carefully and get yourself out of the echo chamber you've put yourself in. Consider the points made at the very least. Use the "critical thinking" you claim to love so much.
I have considered the points you made and read them very carefully, and I have found them incorrect, relying on faulty logic, and full of unverified assumptions and false equivalences. I now bring you a full breakdown of exactly why, though I’m putting it under a cut in case anyone wants to avoid the Discourse™ because this breakdown is a long one.
*cracks knuckles* Here we go!
You clearly have a different definition of “proship” than I do. I and those that I have reblogged or liked (as far as I can tell) are “proship” in the sense that we’re arguing for the freedom to read what you want and write what you want because thoughtcrime isn’t real, no one gets hurt inside your head, and the ability to read and write what we wish is vital to a free society. That’s my definition of “proship,” and if you have a different definition and are determined to stick to it, there’s not much I can do about that. I can only tell you what my definition is so that you know what I’m referring to when I talk about it in this post or reblog posts mentioning it.
If you’re referring to what’s on AO3 (which is what I am mainly concerned with, as I don’t talk about other fanfic sites on my blog), that is not child porn. It’s not. The term child porn refers to sexual photos and videos of real children, not text-only stories about fictional ones. AO3 does not allow users to upload videos nor does it allow users to upload photos except for their profile pictures, and it is literally written into their Terms of Service that they do not allow child pornography on their site. You couldn’t put child porn on AO3 if you tried. Text by itself with no photos or videos accompanying it is not child porn, and that’s true no matter how disgusting and immoral you find it. I don’t support or justify child porn because I don’t support or justify real children being hurt, which is what actual child porn involves and requires.
What I do support is the freedom for everyone to read and write what they want, and I am not going to stop supporting that.
How do you know that the people reading or writing a fic are “getting their rocks off to” or “actively jacking it” to what's in it? Did they tell you? Have you developed telepathic powers and read their minds? How do you know that people “don’t actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art?” Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. You don’t know why someone is reading something and you don’t know why someone is writing something. I have no idea whether the person checking Mein Kampf or Birth of a Nation out of a library is a racist who agrees with everything in both works or a scholar doing research for a paper on racism or just an average joe who wants to see what’s in there for themselves and form their own conclusions, which is a perfectly fine and intellectually healthy thing to want. I don’t know which of these is the case and I’m not going to automatically assume the worst-case scenario, nor am I going to demand that the person checking out those works provide me with an explanation because they don’t owe me one. You don’t know why someone is reading or writing a rape or incest story. Maybe they find it sexy or maybe they’re a victim themselves, working through their trauma by expressing it via the written word. You don’t know which one it is, and they don’t owe you an explanation. I’d advise you not to automatically assume the worst-case scenario either.
Because you know what happens when people assume the worst of an author’s intentions and assume they know what a work is doing? You get situations like Isabel Fall’s and Lindsay Ellis’ where people were sure they knew that the former was being transphobic with her short story and that the latter was trivializing rape with her “rape rap.” They were so sure, as sure as you are in your ask, not a doubt in their minds, didn’t think it was possible for there to be any other reason or interpretation, and so they felt totally justified in harassing those women. I’m sure each of them convinced themselves they were doing this because they were an ally who just cared so much and that those authors deserved the hate they were getting because (gasp!) they wrote something bad and if you write something bad, you should expect to be called out. And then they found out—oops! Turns out Isabel Fall was a trans person and not a cis person being transphobic after all, and was actually writing a story about a subject she had plenty of experience with, and—oops! Turns out Lindsay Ellis was an assault victim herself and she was coping with her trauma in the best way she could because making a lighthearted rap about the subject made it more accessible, easier to deal with, and not as scary and she wasn’t making fun of victims after all. Whoops!
How do you know the people writing these fics you find so horrible aren’t doing something similar to Ellis and Fall? How do you know they aren’t victims working through their grief and trauma in a way that helps them? How do you know you’re not misjudging and assuming the worst of them just like Fall’s and Ellis’ haters misjudged and assumed the worst of them? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. How do you know?
Why do you get to be the authority who decides what “properly depicting complex subject matter in art” even looks like? Maybe someone else read it and decided it was properly depicted; why does your opinion and interpretation matter more than theirs? Why is yours the correct one? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.
I don’t know what anime lolicon is, so I’m not gonna comment on that, though I will say it disproves your point about the Venn diagram being a circle since I am technically a proshipper and yet I don’t even know what that is. I’m sure if you look hard enough, you can probably find someone using the proship label who has done something bad or supports something bad, but the same can be said about antis. You get assholes in every group. Doesn’t mean everyone in the group is a bad person.
(Also I know this isn’t the most important point here but the fact that you’re more worried about the content of South Park fanfics rather than the South Park show itself says to me that you care more about finding an easy target than about minimizing harm because that show has plenty of racist and anti-Semitic “jokes” in it that are being fed to a much larger audience than any fanfic of it could ever have, yet I don’t see you being worried at all about that. Wonder why.)
(Another less important point but one I’m still going to indulge in: I find your line about “if that makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin Mary” funny in an ironic way because in trying to claim that people don’t know what the word puritan means, you proved that you yourself don’t know what it means by implying that puritan = virgin. Puritan and virgin are not the same thing. Virgin is a state of being that could be voluntary or, if you want sex but can’t find anyone to give it to you, it could be involuntary. One could be a virgin and still be sex-positive just like one could be a religious fundamentalist with ten kids who’s had all the sex required to make those ten kids but still be sex-negative and think that only the straight married baby-making kind is okay and all other kinds are impure and gross. Unlike virginity, puritanism is a mindset, not a state of being, and therefore it is always voluntary. You can be one without being the other. Again, not a super important point, but I thought the irony of that line was funny.)
You do know that Jim Crow was a set of laws and policies set down by the government and enforced by police and courts and not, like…a dirty fanfic or book, right? You do know that? It was and still is a legal framework that’s baked into the justice system and has been the driving force behind everything from mass incarceration to drug policy to redlining and housing to voter disenfranchisement. Bitch, I fucking wish that Jim Crow was nothing more than a bad fanfic or a bad story; that would make it a hell of a lot easier to fight! Acting like any one (fan)fiction writer or any one piece of (fan)fiction has the same amount of power as the fucking US government is some insane false equivalence.
As for the representation argument, you’re misunderstanding what that movement is about and why the founders of it cared about the state of media. We Need Diverse Books and organizations like it did not start their campaigns because they were disgusted by what White writers were doing and wanted to stop them and make sure they could never do it again. They started their campaigns to empower and encourage authors of color. It began when a few Black mothers were looking for books for their kids and realized they couldn’t find any with a Black child on the cover, not because they read something a White person wrote and were so horrified by it that they had to put a stop to it. Being so horrified by something in a story that you have to put a stop to it is what Moms for Liberty does. The goal of the representation matters movement is to diversify the publishing industry since it’s still majority White, to publish more authors of color because most of the authors being published are still White, and to update school curriculums so that students of color can read about and study characters like themselves. All of which are good and reasonable goals. It is not and never was about telling people what they were and were not allowed to write or read, or saying that they’re bad people because of what they write or read.
“Influences thinking” and “affecting reality” are not the same as controlling or determining thinking and reality. If fiction really does affect how people see the real world, then why, in a time when we have more positive books/movies/TV shows/plays of and by POC and positive queer books/movies/TV shows/plays than ever before, are we still dealing with vicious racism and homophobia? If fiction influences thinking and affects reality and how people see the world so much, then why, in a time when we have Drag Queen Story Hour and trans characters are being featured positively in popular TV shows and trans actors are winning awards, are we still dealing with some of the worst transphobia we’ve ever seen? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.
Fiction doesn’t make things happen. Playing violent video games doesn’t make a person violent. Reading or writing about an immoral act does not mean you agree with, get off to, or are going to do the immoral act. And that’s true regardless of what the immoral act in question is, whether it's gore or kink or rape or incest.
The problem with “you can read/write what you want except for X because X is gross/morally wrong” is that the bigots and mean-spirited folks of the world will find a way to make anything they don’t like into X. That’s the part antis don’t think about. But we’re already seeing it play out in school board meetings.
“We don’t want to ban Maus because it talks about the Holocaust, we want to ban it because uhhh it has pictures of naked prisoners in the camps and therefore it’s pornography.”
“We don’t want to ban Beloved because it talks about slavery, we want to ban it because uhhh it has a slave getting raped in it and therefore it’s pornography and sexually explicit and won’t someone think of the children!”
“We don’t want to ban all of these books because they have Black kids on the covers, we want to ban them because uhhh they’re critical race theory and indoctrination that teaches White kids to hate themselves!”
“We don’t want to keep drag queens out of libraries because we hate them and are transphobic, we want to keep them out of libraries because uhhh they’re sexualizing minors and teaching them to mutilate their genitals!”
Those are real examples. And they will happen to fanfiction too if we’re not careful. Someone doesn’t like Sonadow? Well they’re not against it because they’re homophobic or just don’t like the ship, they’re against it because uhhh it’s pedophilia since Shadow is 50-65 depending on how you count it and Sonic is 15. If it can happen with books, it can happen with fanfiction.
We’ve already seen cases of people running for board positions on AO3 who talked about “cleaning up the site,” and each time it turned out they were homophobic and were very much including queerness in what they considered “dirty.” That’s going to keep happening because antis keep falling for it and getting swept up in a manufactured moral panic without thinking through what the enforcement would be like. The whole reason AO3 has the policies that it does is because these kinds of purges happened regularly on other sites. Every time, people insisted it was “just the bad ones,” “just the immoral ones,” “just the underage ones,” etc. And it never was. And after every purge, there’d be a lot fewer queer love stories in the world.
How are you going to make sure that doesn’t happen again? How will you decide whose definitions of terms like “pedophilia,” “grooming,” “underage,” “sexualizing,” “fetishizing” get used? That’s the part antis never think about, is what enforcement of what they want would actually involve. Some people think “underage” is anyone under 25 or under 20 and some think it’s anyone under 18. Which one is right? Who gets to decide? Which country’s age of consent is the correct one that fanfic writers around the world all have to abide by regardless of where they’re from, and why is that country’s age of consent the correct one? Whose interpretation of a work is the correct one? And whoever ends up making these decisions, how will you stop this decision maker who gets to say what counts as “properly and improperly depicting complex subject matter” and what doesn’t from shifting the goalposts and abusing their power? How will you stop them from applying those negative labels to just any work they don’t like? What checks and balances will be put in place to keep whoever does the fanfiction gatekeeping from abusing that position? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. I’ve yet to see an anti have an answer to these questions.
I know propaganda is effective because you’ve fallen for it. The idea that peoples’ ability to read and write what they want must be restricted because Think of the Children™ and because “only bad people would ever want to read/write something bad” is the same talking points used by Moms for Liberty, Ron DeSantis, the people protesting Drag Queen Story Hour, and so many others. Every single time an attempt is made to restrict the freedom to read and write, it is always couched in the paternalistic language of protection, safety, just looking out for kids, and the fearmongering language of “that stuff is freaky, dirty, and gross and only a pervert would ever have a problem with it being banned.” Every time, it is discussed with the language of protection and safety, and every time, it is a lie.
I support the right of everyone to read and write what they want because I don’t know their situation, don’t have the right to demand an explanation of their situation or a detailed account of their very private and personal traumas, and have seen what happens when people try to excuse banning and censorship of written text or harassing authors with the excuses of “it’s just the bad ones,” “we’re just protecting kids,” “we just have a few concerns,” “we’re just being good allies,” and “if I wrote something gross I’d expect to get called out!”
So. Now that I have responded to your points, I hope that you will very carefully read and consider my points at the very least and get out of your echo chamber and use some critical thinking too. The fact that you put the phrase critical thinking in quotes like it’s a fake thing that doesn’t exist instead of a real and very important skill reveals a lot more than I think you meant it to, but still I hope you try.
I’ve disabled anonymous asks because I want to see if you’re brave enough to respond without hiding behind anonymity. I’ll be interested to see if you or anyone who agrees with you actually provides thoughtful, well-reasoned, and well-articulated answers to the questions I’ve asked instead of replying with a thought-terminating ad hominem like “That was a lot of words to say that you’re a [insert bad thing here]!” or “Just say you [insert bad thing here] and go!” And if you can actually provide evidence for your claims, if you can provide non-anecdotal, verifiable studies and data that are not from a religious or rightwing think tank that prove your points about proshipping and proshippers, then I’ll really be impressed.
I’m not holding my breath though.
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aclowntiny · 11 months
Text
🦉 Seventeen as Hogwarts Students 🏰
This picture filled me with so much serotonin 🥹 y’all can refer to these headcanons as the basis for all the Hogwarts AU fics I’m going to be writing 😌👀 get ready I can’t believe I held out this long 😂
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S.Coups
☆ When the sorting hat was placed on his head, it paused in thought for a moment as it decided between Slytherin and Gryffindor. In the end, though… “Must be Gryffindor!” His caring heart won out the ambitious houses’ battle! At least, that’s what the hat said, and Seungcheol is determined to prove it right!
☆ Seungcheol is a Half-Blood, but both of his parents are wizards, so he grows up pretty chill on all the purity stuff but not knowing much about how people with no powers live. It’s definitely a curiosity for him, though.
☆ His favorite subjects are Defense Against the Dark Arts because he likes the idea of being able to protect others from harm and Charms because he likes small, quick, useful spells.
☆ He signs up for Ancient Runes because it sounds cool then highkey regrets it. It just kind of goes over his head.
☆ Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team right here 😌 Athletic and a great leader, Seungcheol is honored to receive this role even though it’s so obviously well-suited.
☆ Intimidating AND adorable. Seungcheol’s Patronus can do it all! His guardian takes the form of a Rottweiler dog: brave, loyal, protective, sweet to those who it cares for 😌
Jeonghan
☆ When the Sorting Hat hits his head, it immediately rumples in confusion. “Oh, you’re an interesting one, aren’t you?” It waffles between Hufflepuff and Slytherin before finally declaring… “Can you hear him trying to bargain? Must be a Slytherin!” Jeonghan, for his part, just laughs.
☆ The Yoons are an old wizarding family and their son knows next to nothing about the Muggle world. Thusly Jeonghan makes up a bunch of bullshit at school about Muggle life to convince everyone he totally does. It works every time…so long as no Muggleborns are present at least.
☆ Jeonghan adores Charms class because it paves the way for so many useful spells and gives him a whole arsenal of things to use. He also loves Divination aka bullshitting class because he thrives, duh 😌 the professor loves him, too, because he participates so much and knows what to say, but somehow it escapes his notice how often his predictions are actually accurate.
☆ History of Magic is a lot to remember and not an interesting enough class to give him the drive to study hard, so it’s his hardest subject.
☆ He plays on the Quidditch team because his friend convince him to, but man does it turn out he’s a skilled Beater. This man is a menace with a Bludger.
☆ Thinking of his happiest memory, Jeonghan exclaims “Expecto Patronum!”, unsure what to expect until he sees the burst of light come flying out, taking the shape of a little crow that lands on his shoulder. Not what he was expecting, but the bird charms him immediately with the way it playfully tries to get his attention.
Joshua
☆ “Oh, aren’t you a fun one?” Joshua, frankly, isn’t sure how to take that. Try and be more fun? “What are you planning?” The hat chides, bringing a slight flush of embarrassment to his face. “Lot of crafty ones this year, eh? We have another Slytherin!”
☆ Joshua’s a Muggleborn, so sometimes he feels like a fish out of water, but man is he liking the air. He wants to see it all, understand all that’s moving around him, and use magic to his advantage and enjoyment as much as possible!
☆ Being skilled at languages, Joshua takes up Ancient Runes as an elective and actually really likes it. Decoding is fun and it could prove useful if he decides to become a Curse-Breaker. He also likes Potions because it’s a nice, calm class.
☆ Transfiguration lowkey stresses him out, like what if he goes to transform his stuff and it never comes back??? Or a person?
☆ Slytherin’s Keeper. Good luck trying to score when Joshua is on the pitch 😌
☆ A bunch of other students ooh and ah at Joshua’s stag Patronus because that’s the one famous people get. Or something like that. The tall, antlered figure is elegant, imposing, and yet with a gentle side as it bows its head to its caster regally.
Jun
☆ “You spend a lot of time thinking about others.” Junhui’s eyes widen- he wasn’t expecting to have so much revealed through the hat. “I- I try to,” he replied modestly, at which the hat chuckles. “An innocent mind. Hufflepuff it is!” He’s still trying to wrap his head around how the hat read him and what it meant as they help him off the stool.
☆ He’s a Half-Blood, his mother being a witch and his father a Muggle. He got more experience with Muggle culture than his brother did, so he ended up getting to bond over showing him non-magical inventions 🥹
☆ Care of Magical Creatures is absolutely his favorite class, like Jun gets so excited every day they meet wondering what amazing being he’ll interact with next. The day they had a kneazle cat was pretty much his favorite day at school ever. He also enjoys Muggle Studies because it gives him lots of materials for letters home to his lil bro 🫶🏻
☆ Doesn’t really have a class he hates, but Arithmancy takes the most work so 🤷🏻‍♀️
☆ He tries out to be a Hufflepuff Chaser, but doesn’t make the cut 💀 avid fan and watcher of Hogwarts matches who sometimes tries to follow the commentator up to his post.
☆ Can’t suppress a grin in Defense Against the Dark Arts when a cute little striped cat bursts from his wand, turning around to rub against his legs.
Hoshi
☆ “Bravery aplenty!” Exclaims the Sorting Hat, which makes Soonyoung grin even wider, his excitement growing, “Eager too. A hard worker, sure, but this one’s too daring for Hufflepuff. Better be Gryffindor!” “Yes!” Soonyoung knew he’d be happy anywhere, but he wanted to be sorted with the lions and it looks like he got his wish!
☆ Soonyoung is a Half-Blood. Pretty much all of the Kwons are wizards, but somewhere up the family tree are some Muggleborns, maybe even a Muggle or two. All are welcome in Soonyoung’s family, so he grows up with little understanding how anyone could care about things like that!
☆ Loves to fly! It’s his favorite thing ever, like good luck getting him out of the sky. He also likes Defense Against the Dark Arts because it’s an active class, one where he can move, duel, and practice being in a real-life situation.
☆ Feels like History of Magic is all in one ear, out the other 🤕 that class is a cram before the test vibe for sure.
☆ One of Gryffindor’s Beaters. A little too excited about it, so some accidents have nearly happened but hey, it makes for an exciting game 🤷🏻‍♀️
☆ When that time comes in Defense Against the Dark Arts, a bunch of his friends tease him that he’ll have a small Patronus like a hamster or something, but he insists it’s going to be a powerful tiger, and he’s right 😌 is too overjoyed at the sight of the glowing tiger to rub it in their faces, though 🐅 big memories and emotions = big Patronus??? Not guaranteed, but in Soonyoung’s case certainly!
Wonwoo
☆ “Smart kid,” the Sorting Hat comments when it’s set upon Wonwoo, “sure, you’ve got a bravery about you, you’re kind, but you’re a Ravenclaw!” Wonwoo just nods, thanking the hat- he agrees with the verdict, happily joining his table.
☆ Being a Muggleborn, Wonwoo has a drive to learn about how magic works. Why do some people have it? Why don’t witches and wizards seem to know this or care, especially if they care about bloodlines so much? He also wants to be one of the best just to put the people who doubt him in their place.
☆ One of the few Hogwarts students who actually enjoys Arithmancy and History of Magic. To him, they’re just calm subjects he can focus on and pore over, which is kinda his study method anyway tbh. It kinda works out though because then they go to him for tutoring.
☆ Boy is good at everything, none of the classes are really a struggle for him. Divination seems like the biggest waste of time, though, once he gets in there.
☆ Joins Quidditch as one of Ravenclaw’s chasers. He isn’t sure how much he’s going to like it, but he loves being part of the team! Quite an adept scorer.
☆ People all assume it’s going to be a cat, but Wonwoo casts a polecat Patronus. So, you know, he gets it in the name even though it’s more rodent. Polecats are crafty, comfortable in their home groups, and probably more similar to their caster than everyone might have originally suspected.
Woozi
☆ “Someone’s a hard worker,” comes the Sorting Hat’s teasing comment upon touching Jihoon’s head, “you’ll study well, won’t you? But that dedication…that’s Hufflepuff for you!” Jihoon is a bit surprised, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape at the news, but he likes to think the hat is right: he’s dedicated to his dreams, hardworking. Maybe that is his home.
☆ Being a Muggleborn, Jihoon has a bit of a tough time adjusting to magic. In some ways, he’s almost a bit resistant simply because he doesn’t want to rely on waving a wand for every little thing he could handle himself.
☆ There’s something so inspiring to him about looking at the stars, so he looks forward to Astronomy class. He also enjoys Transfiguration, the ability to make something new totally amazing him. He wonders what it feels like to transform like that.
☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts is kind of a boisterous, stressful class in his mind. All the running around and fighting isn’t really his style.
☆ Has enough other extracurricular stuff going on that he passes on Quidditch tryouts, but enough good friends play that he tries to make it to every game he can!
☆ At first, he isn’t sure why a bat Patronus would suit him, especially when everyone thought he was going to get a cat, but bats are known for using their voices to guide their way. They rely on their music and take time to trust, and Jihoon sees that as he bonds with his little guardian. Both of them take time to themselves, but thrive best in their circles when they come out of their shells.
DK
☆ “Bad thoughts don’t often cross your mind, do they?” The voice of the hat muses upon its placement atop Seokmin’s head. “And you’ve a big heart, yes, indeed… most definitely a Hufflepuff!” Seokmin claps, happy to be in a house with some friendly-looking people and a bit shy to hear the hat say such nice things.
☆ Seokmin is a Muggleborn, both of his parents so proud to have magical children. He thinks it’s super cool too and always says he knew all along his family was magical 🥲 all the magical stuff absolutely amazes him, even the most tedious things are things he wants to experience!
☆ He loves Care of Magical Creatures because omg look! A unicorn! A real-life hippogryph!!! Bowtruckles! It’s all so unbelievable, yet so real, like dreams have been laid out before him. That’s the same reason he looks forward to Herbology, like where else can you see sentient plants?
☆ Loves every class! They are all exciting! *Ancient Runes has entered the chat* Ok, maybe classes can be stressful.
☆ He wants to get over his nerves on a broomstick, so to do that he tried out for Quidditch and makes Seeker. He likes that position because it’s a little removed from the pandemonium of the game and he can think like a Snitch 😌
☆ He’s honestly expecting a small animal, not feeling very brave as he shouts “Expecto Patronum!” but well aware he’ll just be ecstatic if he gets any animal form. Imagine his surprise when he gets a magical creature, a beautiful unicorn leaping from his wand! “I- I made that???” He grins, immediately reaching up to try to stroke its mane, awestruck at the beautiful, pure creature even if he doesn’t realize how perfectly it suits his heart.
Mingyu
☆ “You’re a bit bold, aren’t you?” Mingyu nods, thinking he’s supposed to answer the hat. “Not exactly the most courageous…” “Hey!” “Confident, confident certainly…” “M-hm,” he nods again. “You believe you have skills to offer Hogwarts.” “Yes,” Mingyu agrees. “Send this one to Slytherin!” The hat chuckles.
☆ The Kims are an long line of wizards, Mingyu one of many Pure-Blood sons. He doesn’t know much about Muggle culture, frankly, but has more privilege in lifestyle than he does prejudice against people with different blood.
☆ Potions ace. So good at it sometimes the other students are salty at him, but he just shrugs. It comes naturally for him, whether it’s preparing the ingredients or knowing just how much to add. He also likes Divination just because it’s fun. What do his tea leaves say? He legitimately wants to know.
☆ He does have a fear of flying, so broom lessons are not his favorite 😅 he’ll stay on the ground, thank you.
☆ Obviously does not join the Quidditch team, but is on the stands cheering super loud at every game!
☆ Everyone can’t help but tell Mingyu how perfect his husky Patronus is once it manifests, the goofy, vocal, affectionate dog running around practically looking like his twin!
The8
☆ As if drawn in by his aura, the hat muses as it rests upon Minghao’s head. “An artist, eh? Kind, forgiving, wise, and very calm too. A bright one. Ravenclaw, certainly Ravenclaw!” Between what he felt was a suitable sorting despite telling himself he’d be happy with anything and all the attention, Minghao practically glows at the hat’s words.
☆ The Xus are a Pure-Blood family, but Minghao’s parents are both avid Muggle Studies enthusiasts, so their son grew up with lots of knowledge and no prejudice. They all see magic as a chance to help others with less.
☆ Nature is important to this boy here, so Herbology is where his gifts lie. He’s so gentle with the plants and genuinely appreciative of them all, it’s a rewarding class to be able to track their lives. Following the movement of the stars is another joy of his as well as sketching the sky and making star charts, so Minghao does great in Astronomy too.
☆ There’s no class he really hates, but his magic isn’t as Charms-suited as it is focused on creative magic, so those quick spells actually take him more time.
☆ Because he likes flying, he tries out to be Ravenclaw’s new Seeker when the position opens up and earns it 😌 he’s so calm yet fast as he flies, it looks like he always knows exactly where his little gold friend is!
☆ People make jokes about his Patronus being a frog or something of the like, but they’re sure proven wrong by the beautiful swan that slides out, skating gracefully on the air around Minghao.
Seungkwan
☆ The moment the Sorting Hat hits Seungkwan’s head, it shouts out “Oh, we have a loyal one here. This one is a Hufflepuff!” A very decided ceremony for Mr. Boo 😌 he’s both shook at how little time it takes and happy the hat thinks he’s loyal.
☆ A Half-Blood! His mom is actually Pure-Blood, his father a Muggleborn. He loves magic, but also really enjoys learning about the Muggle world. Totally open to differences. Would even consider marrying a Muggle.
☆ LOVES Care of Magical Creatures. One of the students who almost always volunteers for demonstrations because he wants to touch all the animals! Unless they’re, like, giant bugs or something that’ll try to kill him, of course. Muggle Studies is really fun because it’s a way to connect with a part of his heritage and understand others. It gives him social ground with Muggleborns and even non-magical people he’ll interact with in life.
☆ Who made Arithmancy a class??? It stresses him out just to look at 💀 You’re allowed to drop electives, so he straight-up nopes out of Arithmancy and signs up for Divination instead.
☆ He enjoys flying, but being up that high and being chased by sporting goods that want to break your bones? Nah, he’s good, thanks. It’s much more fun to watch and offer comment, so Seungkwan becomes the school Quidditch commentator…and often gets chastised by professors for sassing rival times and whining about missed shots that were so easy, come on.
☆ Really really hopes his Patronus is strong enough to take an animal form, so when it comes out looking big he’s kind of proud yet shook. The light forms a dolphin that bobs back over to his owner, leaping in circles in the air around him and bringing a smile to his face.
Vernon
☆ “Interesting mind on this one, eh?” Those are the first words the hat speaks when it’s set on Vernon’s head. “A perfect fit for Ravenclaw, this one!” He’s proud. His mother was a Ravenclaw during her Hogwarts days, part of the most artful and creative-minded house. He can’t stop smiling all night!
☆ He’s a Pure-Blood wizard, his maternal grandmother having actually attended Beauxbatons before settling down in England. His father’s side always attended Hogwarts, so the school is really what joined his family. People tend to assume Vernon’s a Muggleborn, though, just because he looks so spaced out or amazed sometimes.
☆ Yet another lover of magical creatures right here! They love him right back too 😌 other students get jealous of how much they approach Vernon. He’s also quite good at Arithmancy, there’s just something about it that clicks in his head.
☆ Accidentally set something on fire in Potions class once. Enough said.
☆ Enjoys playing Quidditch for fun with his friends, but doesn’t try out for the formal team. He’s happy to support Ravenclaw alongside his classmates.
☆ Can’t help but laugh when his Patronus comes out as a small turtle. It’s cute, though, he and others defend it, a good embodiment of happy memories.
Dino
☆ Another pretty fast sort. “You’d make it in Gryffindor, sure,” the hat mutters, “but I believe your place is in Slytherin!” And with that, Chan is off to his table! He’s a bit surprised, having expected Gryffindor, but hey, Slytherins are ambitious, so the hat’s probably right. He’ll do anything to succeed.
☆ The Lees have a whole-ass family tree on display- they’re Pure-Bloods. A little proud of it, but frankly Chan himself doesn’t care, almost feeling that much more like being the one to break the line just to shut them all up about it.
☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts star! That one kid that always gets called up to show everyone how to do it right 😤 such a natural dueler and just really good at dispelling negative vibes 😌 he also enjoys flying a lot, it just helps him feel free to soar into the air!
☆ Conversely, he has a lot of difficulty in Potions class, which makes him want to double down on it so he’s no longer stressing about it!
☆ Slytherin’s Seeker 😌 he’s such a nimble flyer with great control, Chan was born to play this role!
☆ He lowkey wants something big and intimidating like a dragon or a rhino, so when a small burst of light appears he fears he’ll be disappointed. The moment the otter slides into view, though, all he can do is smile and reach for it, taking its hand to run after it and play, too.
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athenaistired · 3 months
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𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ❞
— 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 //
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very nervous to post this ngl my heart is racing for some reason lmao. still not sure on the title of this fic cuz im not 100% certain if i will be writing a part 2, but if you guys will like this random idea that my brain produced on a tuesday evening then be sure to let me know. i can’t promise the timing of the chapters though bcz i have a very busy life, but i will try my best x
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴄʜ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ꜰᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ — ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴛ, ᴇʏᴇ-ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʏ/ɴ, ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴀʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀᴡᴇ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴍᴜᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪʟʟ? ᴀʜ, ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ — ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʟᴀᴡʏᴇʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ.
art credit & word count: 5365
warning: homelessness, discrimination, growing up poor, violence, knife crime, description of physical wounds, hospitals, ptsd, muteness, psychological trauma, depression
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— 𝑨𝑳𝑴𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 !1!
One of the first memories that you can recall back when you were only 4 years old — is your father crouching down in the middle of the street whilst picking up the coins that a rich bastard threw your way to have a good laugh with his friends. Your father was calling out for your name, screaming at you to help him and count all the mora, but you couldn’t move yourself out of the stupor. Your gaze was glued onto the laughing sickos that shamelessly pointed their fingers at your old man like he was a circus animal preforming for their entertainment.
That memory taught you two things. One, money was the access for power to do anything you could ever want. And two, money made people evil.
“Y/N, SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY AND HELP ME!” You flinched at him as he grabbed your shoulders and shook you like a ragdoll. You quickly nodded, and crouched down by his side to collect the coins with your shaky fingers.
You felt something wet hitting your cheek, and with dread, you realized that it was not a raindrop. One of those assholes had spit right at your head. Right then and there — you wanted to aim a punch at his jaw to wipe off that smug, malicious smirk, but you knew you couldn’t do that. After all, you lived in Fontaine. These rich bastards definitely had the money, fame, and connections to put you behind bars for assault if you were to even try anything.
In the end, you were powerless. Because you didn’t have the money that they did. And because you were afraid to hurt people like they did. You were the two things — that made people weak.
If only you could change that, you would grasp at any chance that’d you get.
-
You stared down at the plate in front of you. It was a sad pile of canned beans, the same meal that you and your father had been eating for 2 weeks now. At least, you weren’t living with 4 roommates anymore how you had done in the past. You had no appetite, but you knew that you had to eat. You couldn’t get sick, and tomorrow you needed to have the energy to study and work around the house. Somehow, your father had actually managed to get the job working as the cleaner at the opera house, but it didn’t pay well.
Affording rent, food, supplies, and hygiene products sometimes felt impossible. Thankfully, you two fell in the lower range of income, meaning that there was no need to pay any taxes. And yet, your situation was not bad enough for the government to supply you with any financial aid. You two couldn’t even apply for bankruptcy, because then your father could potentially either lose the studio or his guardianship over you.
“Y/N, is there something on your mind?” Your father had asked, noticing that you were playing with your food.
“Daddy.. How do people become rich?” Your question made him pause, but he wasn’t surprised by its nature. After all, the only thing the two of you were thinking was money, money, money..
Money.
“That’s.. A difficult question, bunny.” He sighed, and wiped his mouth with a napkin before taking a sip of his water, “Some people are born into wealthy families, some people start get expensive supplies and sell them for massive goods, and some.. Are very educated, and they acquire successful jobs that pay well.” The look in his gaze grew heavy. He was only in his late 30s, but his wrinkles and eye-bags made him look older by at least 10 more years, “I’m sorry, bunny..
..Daddy is so sorry for not giving you a good life.”
Your father didn’t speak much of his past, but somehow you knew anyway. Your mother died during birth. When you were born your father was only half-way through his education, but had to abandon it in order to take care of you. He took two years off work, and both of you lived through his extra savings, until they had eventually ran dry. Your grandparents wanted nothing to do with your father. He was the last son out of 5, and they saw him as a leech trying to suck out their expenses.
And here you were.
Nothing to your name. Absolutely nothing. You didn’t even have friends, because children would always make fun of your clothes, and would always rub it in your face that you couldn’t afford to have toys like they did (from the fancy stores). Your dad many times crafted toys for you himself, but after one bully had broken a skillfully sculptured wooden doll of a horse that your father had spent hours perfecting — your toys became more than just mere “toys” — they were your little treasures. You didn’t want anyone to hurt them, as they were pieces of your father’s heart and love.
“Don’t say such silly things, daddy.” You got up from your chair and wrapped your hands around his neck; hugging him close. His form was shaking — he was holding back from crying as much as he could, “I am the happiest child in the whole of Fontaine.”
“Are you really?” He asked, and you nodded.
“Of course I am.”
You both knew that you were lying.
-
The older you got — the more you grew hungrier for knowledge. Your father on your 16th birthday gifted you new clothes, so you finally had something normal-looking to wear into the city. Most of your time you’ve spent in the library, studying everything that your eyes would land on. It seemed that you were a natural — you were meant for great things.
Subjects didn’t come easy to you, but you had the greatest motivation of them all — to be powerful. To have money. To built the life for yourself that was an opposite of the one which you had right now. You didn’t care if you had to be a doctor, a professor, or a lawyer. Anything would do, as long as you could actually eat warm food. Have nice clothes. Afford jewelry.
“Latin?” The librarian with curiosity picked up one of the books that laid by your side, “History, Biology, Anatomy, Herbology, Law, Politics, Sociology.. What subject are you actually trying to study?”
“Everything.” You answered with confidence evident in your voice, “I want to get a scholarship to the University of Fontaine.. My father can’t afford to pay for my tuition, so I have to be the best of the best.”
“You’re a star, Y/N. I bet one day I will be telling people that I used to see you everyday at this old, dusty library.” The woman petted your head in encouragement, and you blushed at her compliments and shyly looked away, “I am sure that no matter what you’ll pursue — you’ll excel at it. You’re clearly a born genius.”
“Y-you flatter m-me..” You played with the lock of your hair. It wasn’t everyday that you were showered in praise and encouragement, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, child.” The old lady then went back to the front desk where a few people were already waiting for her to either borrow or return a book.
-
“Daddy, I’m home.” You walked into your’s and your father’s new apartment.
From a studio, the two of you were now managing to afford a one-bedroom flat. Many times you begged your father to sleep on the bed, and that you would take the couch, but the stubborn man never budged. He wanted for his child to have all the best in life that he could manage to give. You always had bigger meals than him, better clothes, freshly washed sheets every week, a clean room, and a lot of hand-built furniture and toys. Of course you didn’t play with the toys anymore, but you were proud to display them on the highest shelf of the armoire.
“Welcome back, bunny.” You heard his voice from the kitchen. He was doing the dishes which have been rotting around in the sink for the past 3 days now. However, he didn’t blame you — he knew that you were getting ready for the exams, “How are your studies going?”
“They’re going well, daddy.” You reassured him, and quickly left to another room to change into a homey t-shirt, “Let me help you with the dishes.” You insisted, to which the old man scoffed.
“Nonsense.”
“Your hands are all roughed up and tired from the day! Please, dad.” You begged him, and the two of you exchanged a long stare, until he gave in and left to plop down on the couch.
“Have you decided who you want to be yet?” He asked you, and you ignored his question. This line always made your stomach turn and twist in anxiety, “I am not trying to put any pressure on you, bunny. It’s just.. It’ll be easier to prepare for an exam if you knew which direction you’d like to take.”
“I know, dad..” You answered back to him, finally turning off the tap and reaching for the tea towel, “I know.”
-
You were 19 now, growing older and wiser. You eventually learned to make clothes by yourself, so now you were able to not stand out from the crowd of aristocrats living in the heart of Fontaine, yet save money with the wardrobe treasures. Somehow, you managed to make friends. They were all home-schooled kids, and with a small twinkle about your background, you managed to find a way to fit in. Life was slowly building its stairs towards your ultimate success.
And then, the day of epiphany came.
“Dad! Dad! I got in, I got in!”
You jumped from happiest like an excited bunny — very fitting to the nickname that you’ve had your whole life. Your father proudly looked at the acceptance letter for the law course that you chose in the end. They accepted you on a scholarship, so you didn’t even have to pay for education.
“That’s my bunny! Look how smart you are!” He hugged you tight and you squeaked from happiness, “We must celebrate! I might even get us a bottle of wine! We’ll drink to thank the Archon for my smart Y/N!”
“Dad, stop! No way you’ll actually spend the savings on wine!” You laughed, still not believing your ears. Your father had never ever bought alcohol, and now he was willing to get a whole bottle for your sake? Felt like your birthday!
“Not all savings, but we have more than enough to enjoy a bottle of good wine!” You watched your dad walk up towards the bookshelf and move around a few of your books, to finally reach a small leather bag with some mora in it. Should be just enough for a nice dinner with a bottle of wine, “We are going to a restaurant — the best in town!”
“Really?!” You gasped in shock. You were both ecstatic, yet anxious. Wasn’t this all a bit too much? Shouldn’t this money be saved for something else?
“You’ve been working so hard — you deserve a day of celebration before you go off into the world to stand on your own feet. Let daddy treat you to a meal one last time, bunny.”
You felt touched to the bottom of your heart. It felt like you were about to burst into tears. All your life you’ve been waiting for this moment — to become someone. Someone whose name will be remembered and respected. You wanted to be someone who had money and power. You wanted to buy your father a house by the sea, so he could always enjoy the beautiful sights of Fontaine. You wanted freedom to do what’s desired — and you worked harder than anyone to reach such milestone in life.
“I will make you proud to be my father.. I promise.” You said through tears.
“Oh, bunny. I have always been so proud of you.” He breathed out a laugh, “Forever and always.”
-
Years passed by in a flash, and you just celebrated your 29th birthday in your office, with a box of cupcakes by your side made by your good friend Charlotte. You now had a bachelor’s degree, finished law school as one of the top students, and passed the bar exam with flying colors. On the side, you even managed to secure yourself a phD in Criminal Justice. You had a few years of practice at a pretty successful firm, and had connections all the way to the Chief of Justice. You never met him yourself, but you obviously had seen him before. He had your interest, that’s for sure, but you were far too busy with your own goals to pay attention to anything else. Your clients were loyal to you, and had blind trust in your capabilities. Your name was passed from one rich bastard to another, and soon you were amongst the top.
The little Y/N was probably looking up at you in complete awe and jealousy. You were exactly what they wanted to be back then. Professional, intelligent, and powerful. But as you stared at yourself in the mirror — your eyes were still empty, your heart was still unfulfilled, and your stomach was still rumbling from hunger.
You were just getting started.
Perhaps, one day you’ll be the right hand of the Chief of Justice. Or maybe you’ll take over his position as a whole. You were limitless. You were meant for greatness. You were meant for leadership.
“Y/N, a client is calling. He’s requesting a meeting today, and he is saying that it is urgent.” One of your assistants came up to you with a worried look on his face. You were already getting dressed to leave the office, but paused. You checked the watch, and shook your head.
“It is 7pm, and I finish working at 6pm. I already stayed overtime. Tell him to come back tomorrow, I think I have a free slot at 4pm if I am not mistaken.” You tried to pass by your assistant, but he followed after you like a clingy puppy.
“B-but.. Y/N!” He begged, because he hated when he had to deal with your stubborn clients. Especially, considering your reputation, majority of the people who contacted you were scary criminals, because they knew that you’d get their ass out of trouble no matter the crime.
“No buts, today I will be seeing my father. I haven’t seen him for 3 years, and my father will always take priority.” You decided to exit through the back door, so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the mess which was about to go down.
“B-but, Y/N, please!” You shut the door in his face and sighed. You really did feel bad for Achille from time to time, but he got very good overtime tips from you, so you knew that at the end of the day he will definitely have an extra bonus for a good bottle of whiskey.
-
“Now, where was I..”
Fontaine was a prestigious place, but that wasn’t an equivalence to safety. From time to time, you would hear pleasured gasps from the darkened alleys or pained moans of drug addicts shivering in the cold. But the sound which had especially caught your attention were footsteps that have been following you for some time now.
You took a turn.
The person took a turn with you.
You crossed the road.
They followed.
You could smell the malicious intent from the dark figure. You didn’t want to turn around, because then the person would know that you knew. You were panicking inside, but didn’t let it swallow you as you forced yourself to think. It was late, most places were closed by now. You couldn’t be alone right now. Some bars had to be open.
Right.
A bar.
You should go to the bar — now!
However, luck was not on your side, you couldn’t see a single bar in the area. You saw food shops, clothes shops, a local clinic, a library, a few cafés, however, not a single bar. The one that did catch your eye had been closed for 2 months now after someone got accidentally poisoned with the Primordial Seawater which accidentally made its way into their beer.
Strangely, this didn’t seem like a spontaneous ambush. The location had been carefully selected, and your escape options have been limited ahead. With a curse under your breath, you also remembered that today was one of the bank holidays. You were working today only because you never miss an extra pay day, but nobody else seemed to be as crazed for a paycheck as you.
Many people who got sent to jail by your work would always promise to hunt you down when they would be let out. However, you never thought about it happening because you haven’t been in the field for long enough for some of your foes to be freed. So, who was this? Who was stalking you?
You reached into your bag, and pulled out a small mirror in hopes of catching a glimpse in their reflection. Your palms were sweating, and you were shaking without realizing it. The next thing you knew — you cursed under your breath — as the thing fell out of your hands and shattered against the road.
The sudden noise, set everything into action. You sprinted off the spot into a run, and the stalker chased after you without hesitation. Now, your adrenaline was pumping your veins, and it felt like the intensity of it would make your heart stop from overdrive. You were never much of an athletic person, but you were running like never before. The sound of your shoes clacking against the embedded stones echoed across the ghostly streets. The stalker’s steps reminded you of the sound that the boots of a hunter made against the ground whilst chasing their prey. Silent, careful, and concenrated at their target.
You felt like a bunny being chased down by its predator — a wolf. You had all the power you wanted at your work, but when it came down to it — you were just as weak as you always have been.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, you had a stabbing pain in the side of your ribs, and you were now beginning to get an agonic heartburn — however — your legs didn’t stop moving. Your knees were starting to ache, your feet were getting sore at the back, your mouth and throat were turning dry as a desert with each passing second, but you knew that you had to keep running.
The moment you will stop — you will die.
You had no thoughts in the moment, just pure survival instincts have completely taken over control of your movements and body. You couldn’t focus on anything or come up with a clear plan — you were terrified for the first time in a while. Even when you and your father had lived on the streets, you were always allowed to wander off due to the safety. Where were the guards? Where were Fontainians? Why was it this empty around?
And then it felt like the time had paused.
The present had slowed down, and you could see everything happening in third perspective.
Your shoe platform broke against the slippery surface, and you lost your balance as you found yourself dropping down the stairs. You gasped; your ankle twisted in an unnatural way sending a jolting zap of pain throughout your whole body. But before you could even process what just happened — your body didn’t stop falling. You had nothing to grab onto, no one to help you, and so you kept falling.
You’re falling!
You’re falling!
There was a dull thud at the back of your head as you had finally reached the bottom of the staors. You barely felt it, and you thought that you could get up just fine, but your body felt too heavy. It protested against any of your attempts, and betrayed you at the worst moment. Your vision was darkening against your will. Your mind was still sound and clear, but your body had began to shut down from the pain shock and potential concussion.
Now, the speed of your thoughts began to fade as well. There was a sharp sensation at the lower base of your spine, and your knee felt like it was locked in an unusual position.
You fought for your eyes to stay open, and felt everything come to a stop as Death itself stared back at your pathetic little form laying in the middle of the street. No, it wasn’t Death, it was the stalker leaning down and crouching next to your chest. The stranger rose his palm in front of your lips, and you held in your breath.
Something at the back of your mind told you to play dead, and so you did.
5 seconds..
10 seconds..
15 seconds..
20 seconds..
25 seconds..
You could barely hold your face muscles from twitching, and your lungs were beginning to ache. The bastard was playing with you. You could almost imagine his maniacal grin burning holes right through you, waiting for you to hiccup a breath.
You couldn’t do it anymore.
It was getting too much.
You had to take a breath.
You had to.
You were about to do it—
And so you did.
With a gasp, you instantly opened your eyes and rolled yourself to the side just on time as the stranger smashed his pocket knife to where a second ago was your head. Adrenaline was back all over again, as now you knew that this wasn’t just a desperate creep — this man was here for your life.
However, something seemed strange. You were certain that some of your limbs were twisted in a wrong direction and a few of your bones were broken. If he really wanted to kill you — he would have done it already. No, he wasn’t after your life. He wanted to see the terror, the agony, the horror, and consume it like a delicious meal. This was sick, and personal. Personal didn’t mean that he knew you, but it could indicate that he got off to this expression of violence for selfish and distorted reasons.
“You coward!” You gritted through your teeth; your eyes flaring with hatred. You didn’t want to die like this. You didn’t fight for your whole life just for this sicko to take it all away from you, “HOW. FUCKING. DARE YOUUUU!!!”
The freak laughed at your scream, and sat down on top of your broken and twisted body with a blade shining up in the air. His grip was tight — you were terrified. So, so afraid. You were shaking, it was cold, and you wanted to cry. You were a strong person, but such an unfair Death shook you to the core.
The knife plunged down fast and unexpectedly, but your instincts were faster — it never reached your chest. You managed to grab the blade with your bare palms, and held it on tight. The pain was agonizing, and you screamed like a howling animal. Your bright red blood was streaming down your wrist onto your shirt, your face, and neck. The freak couldn’t stop laughing, as he tried to put all force into lowering the weapon slower, and slower.
You were beginning to lose hope.
In that moment you remembered that your other knee was perfectly fine. As soon as you gathered enough strength, you sent a massive kick with your leg straight into his groin. Thankfully, he was caught by a surprise, and you managed to then send you final blow — with your forehead — you smashed straight into his nose, and finally he was the one screaming in pain. For some reason, you felt much more powerful than usual. It felt like you would move a mountain if that was needed, as long as you could stay alive tonight.
“What the hell is going on here?!”
You heard sounds, people’s voices and commotion. Your screams were not for nothing, someone finally managed to hear you. There was a group of Fontanians rushing towards your aid. At their sight, the freak grabbed his knife and quickly ran away. You reached your palm towards his disappearing silhouette, however, before anyone could catch at least one sight of him — he was already gone.
Without even realizing it, you let yourself fall into a deep sleep.
-
You woke up in the hospital all alone. There were no nurses around you, no doctors, no friends nor your father. The memories quickly came back to you, but you felt still. Your heart was racing all over again, but you had no energy to fight or run anymore. The logical part of your brain had already determined that you were saved, and hospital was probably the best place for you to be at the moment.
You thought about your father who never saw you in the end that evening, you thought about how long you were unconscious, and whether your clients have managed to find someone to replace their defense. You had a tendency to always think about others, but never about yourself.
“Y/N is awake!” You didn’t even notice Achille coming into the room. The poor boy had almost dropped the coffee which he was holding as he desperately called for the doctor.
“Ah, Y/N, finally awake!” Another male came in with a huge comforting smile on his face. He was an older and wiser doctor; you could tell by his composed walk and worn-off glasses. The grey hairs and wrinkles reminded you of your father, but you would think about that later, “How are you feeling?”
A simple question.
Why couldn’t you answer?
You opened your mouth just like always to speak with the voice which had never betrayed you before — but nothing came out. With confusion, you gently grabbed at your own throat as if hoping that the warmth of your palms would fix it. Achille stared at you in shock, and quickly reached for a glass of water to give to you, which you gobbled down in an instant, but your voice refused to come back. A dry, weak cough came out which burned and itched your vocal cords.
Completely stunned and puzzled, you stared at the doctor in desperation for answers. What was happening with you?
“That’s quite an unpleasant surprise..” The older male mumbled to himself, “Could you please excuse me?” And at that he left, leaving you in internal silence which felt like it could swallow you whole. Eventually, he came back 20 minutes later with another 2 doctors by his side. They looked younger, but all had a cloned serious look in their eyes, “Y/N, these are my colleagues. This is Dr. Laurent, he is our head psychiatrist, and this is Dr. Allard, who is our neurologist. We are not sure what is happening here, but before we continue further evaluations, I will give you a rundown of your physical injuries thus far.”
The man pulled a small chair to sit on and picked up a file with your name on it. This must have been the report from other doctors and nurses who have been taking care of you.
“You have a twisted ankle, a broken kneecap, a torn meniscus, you’ve suffered a blunt injury to the back of your head and a concussion, and to top it all you had very severe injuries inflicted onto your palms with a sharp object which we suspect to have been a pocket knife. You have been in the hospital for 2 days, however, we have already performed a few surgeries to lower the risk of infection or the worsening of your condition.” You nodded your head to urge him to continue, “We have stitched up your meniscus, and treated the wounds on your hands. We have also applied a cast on your kneecap to help it heal. You were actually lucky — the kneecap will heal quicker than expected with majority of patients, however, the rehabilitation for the torn meniscus should take up to 4 weeks.”
You could already feel a headache hovering over your thoughts. You didn’t have time for this bullshit. You had work, you had father to take care of, you had clients to help, and money to make. How could this have happened? Why did this happen to you? You were hoping for that attack to have been a cursed nightmare, but the reality was too depressing to accept.
“Now, since there was no damage to your throat or vocal cords upon initial examination, we would like for the neurologist to ensure that your muteness is not a physical symptom.” The first doctor welcomed Dr. Allard to begin his job.
-
In the end — they have concluded for your muteness to be a PTSD response to the event. They told you to stay in the hospital until full recovery. This wasn’t just for health reasons, but also a safety precaution. It was obvious that you were brutally attacked by a psycho, it would be beyond insane to just let you go back home completely broken down, vulnerable, and mute.
You fell at the rock bottom once again. It has been a while since depression had visited you like this. It felt like an old friend who would come and go, but only appear when life would throw its most tough battles at you. You’ve clenched your fists at the thought of how vulnerable you were right now.
“Y/N is not well! They can’t answer your questions right now — have some respect!” You heard the commotion right outside your door which peaked your interest. However, you quickly put the pieces together as to who were the uninvited guests trying to force their way through to you.
“It won’t even take a minute, we promise!” The doctors were pushed out their way, and the door into your private resting room was burst open. You winced at the loudness of their voices, “Sorry for the.. Unprofessional entrance.”
Before you stood Navia, Aether and Paimon. You have known those 3 for a while now — after Traveler had helped save Fontaine a few months ago from the punishment of Celestia, you made sure to show personal thanks and gratitude in the name of your Nation. However, you haven’t spoken to the blond boy and his fairy since. Navia on the other hand often exchanged her investigation reports and crime theories with you, but the dynamic was still too frail to be called friendship. Perhaps, you just didn’t let anyone get close enough to actually become your friend.
“Y/N.. I am so sorry for what had happened to you..” Navia started with his soap opera phrases. You didn’t want that right now. You hated being pitied, “We will do everything in our power to find the one who did this to you and to your father — it is my promise to you, Y/N.”
Your eyes widened and you stared at her in absolute horror. You felt your blood run ice-cold as sudden lightheadedness took over your consciousness. You thought that you would throw up right then and there.
Your father?
What happened to your father?
WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DAD?!
The doctors quickly rushed in as the machines hooked to your body suddenly went off with a loud alarm — which startled you further. Your body was shaking, your mouth was open in a scream with no sound coming out. You grabbed at your head feeling like chaos had completely taken over your life.
“LEAVE — NOW!”
The doctor screamed at Navia and Traveler who stood frozen in place from shock at how quickly they fucked up. Things seemed to have escalated out of nowhere.
“They are going into a shock — quickly — or they might suffer another seizure!” Doctors were talking to one another as they took care of you to bring you back to them.
You couldn’t cope with this terrible reality.
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suzukiblu · 6 months
Text
Day five of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
The Superboy problem is a problem, but it's a backburner problem. There isn't really much Tim can do about it, after all. Bruce isn't gonna accept "hey so I know secret identities and maintaining the Bat-mystique and everything but could you just like . . . take in an extremely high-profile teenage superhero with no vested interest in maintaining any kind of secret identity of his own, maybe?" as a plan. Tim needs something better. Something more functional. And also something Kon will actually go for.
And there's just no way that Tim can just walk up to a notoriously independent and proud and defensive teammate who barely considers him an acquaintance and say "do you want an apartment and monthly living expenses and maybe also an allowance, no strings attached?"
That would be weird, definitely.
Like. Very definitely.
Tim's still tempted to try it, mind. It's not like he couldn't afford it, with a little bit of abuse of his trust fund and a lot of lying to his dad. And really, would that even be an abuse? If helping his teammate live his fucking life outside of a fucking lab counts as an abuse . . .
Well, maybe he really will move up his supervillain timeline, that's all.
But it's a backburner problem, still, and Tim isn't actually thinking about it at all when his best chance to solve it pops up. What Tim is doing is suffering through a field trip to a Metropolis art museum, because the school board is full of cowards and thinks sending his grade to an outside-Gotham museum will decrease the chances of said field trip being interrupted by a museum robbery.
Obviously it will, but come on, they're from Gotham. Like they can't handle a museum robbery.
Also all the art here is pretentious. Like, in obnoxious Metropolis-type ways.
If Tim has to look at one more stylized interpretation of the sun reflecting on a skyscraper while a "subtle" caped figure flies by in the background, he will actually choke. Like literally, actually choke.
Get one original thought. Please. Someone. Anyone.
(No, the stylized interpretations of the moon reflecting on a Gothic building while a subtle caped figure looms among the gargoyles are not equally uncreative, thank you very much. At least duplicating Gotham architecture involves some actual artistry beyond "paint a few straight lines and add a lens flare".)
Tim takes some half-assed notes about the boringly generic exhibit they're here to see and then goes looking for literally anything more interesting than said exhibit. There's got to be some photography somewhere in this place, right? Or at least some loaner art that somebody outside of Metropolis put together before Superman's public debut. Or something.
He ends up in the ancient Mesopotamian exhibit mostly by trying to avoid people and, unfortunately, immediately runs straight into a magical artifact. He doesn't actually know it's magic at the time, but the assholes who are about to blow in an outside wall in pursuit of it sure do.
Tim, unfortunately oblivious to phenomenal cosmic power in clay form, thinks it looks kind of like a cute little toy goat and is just grateful it isn't another skyscraper.
Then the wall gets blown in.
"The school board deserves this," Tim mutters, closing his notebook and sticking it back in his bag because sure, why not. This might as well happen.
Ugh.
The very obvious thieves rush in through the gap in the wall. A few people scream–Tim assumes to be polite, since this is already the most unimpressive museum robbery he's seen in months–and the civilians scatter as the guards rush forward. Tim wonders why anyone's even bothering, given that this is Metropolis. What, are they worried the thieves aren't gonna validate their parking for them?
Seriously, Tim knows all the robbery statistics in this city. Even when Superman doesn't show up, the injury and fatality rates are shockingly low. It's statistically more dangerous to go for a walk in Gotham Park mid-afternoon than it is to be present for an armed robbery in Metropolis.
Which is funny, considering the people doing armed robberies in Metropolis come armed for Superman.
Look, Tim doesn't understand the statistics, he just records them.
The thieves tie up the guards first, which seems like a waste of time to Tim when time is of the essence but probably will be for the best if they get pinned down in the gallery, he supposes. Then again, that'd likely end up in a hostage situation anyway, so why worry about containing a couple of unarmed guards over saving thirty seconds when you're doing a smash and grab?
Seems inefficient to him, considering.
He keeps assessing the situation and taking mental notes as he ushers various classmates and museum-goers towards comparative safety, since a successful supervillain timeline requires appropriate research and development. And also, Metropolis-based criminals should know how to work around Superman, at least in theory, so it's best to keep an eye on what does and doesn't work for them.
Not for any specific reason, obviously.
Definitely not.
One of the thieves goes for the little clay goat, smashing its glass display case with their armored elbow, and only then do the museum alarms start screaming. Seems like a stupid design choice when an exploding wall doesn't set them off, but whatever, at least there are alarms.
Honestly, if it were him, Tim would have a silent alarm and a secondary alarm set to a specifically Superman-discernable frequency, though he's sure Superman would get sick of that quick in non-life-threatening situations, so maybe there are local regulations about that or something, who knows. He should look into that, actually. Or just play something annoying on a frequency normal human hearing can’t discern and see what happens, if nothing else.
They make sonic fences to keep dogs in and teenagers out, don't they? Same theory.
The thieves are all yelling orders to each other and arguing; no clear chain of command and a poorly-established plan, Tim notes. Most of the civilians are clear or behind cover, so if he just–
Right, Tim remembers belatedly as one of the thieves makes a grab for him. He's currently wearing civilian wear, isn't he.
That probably means he needs to let this incredibly clumsy grab work, doesn't it, he reflects resignedly. Definitely it does, actually.
Ugh.
Tim, dubiously, lets the thief grab him and debates how upset he's supposed to look about this situation. A Gothamite can't look too freaked out over a Metropolis criminal, obviously; he'd never live it down at school. Seriously, is this guy even armed, he–
Ah, never mind. Definitely armed.
And an idiot with no concept of trigger safety, judging by the way he's holding the gun he's currently jamming into Tim's temple.
Great. Just great.
What does this moron even think he's doing, anyway? The guards are all tied up, as far as he knows there's no superheroes on scene, and nobody's actually trying to stop them. If he accidentally murders a civilian right now, they're all going to be in way, way worse trouble than just stealing a little clay goat would entail.
Tim resists the urge to point that out since there is, again, a gun to his head right now and the person holding it there is in fact a moron with no concept of trigger safety. Not an ideal time to start a conversation, especially not to criticize said moron.
It's tempting, just again, not ideal.
"The fuck are you doing?!" one of the thieves yells to the one going to a really unnecessary amount of effort to drag Tim along. "You were supposed to grab a little kid for the hostage!"
"There's no little kids, Mark!" the thief holding Tim protests petulantly. "I'm doing my best here, man!"
"No names, asshole!" the apparent "Mark" yells back at him.
Tim is pretty sure these thieves are just not very good at crime in general. Or possibly just not very good at anything at all.
He starts calculating the best place to "trip" out of this guy's arms and "accidentally" elbow him in the dick–off-camera, obviously, he doesn't want to leave any footage for anyone to review later–and pretends to be a good little hostage in the meantime, if not a particularly cowed one. Again: Gothamite. He can't actually let it look like a Metropolis criminal did anything worse than mildly annoy him.
Okay, maybe like, Lex Luthor or Brainiac could get a Gothamite past "mildly annoyed", but not a half-assed handful of petty thieves with a shitty plan and an even shittier exit strategy. They would've been better off running in, grabbing what they wanted, and then just scattering; even Superman can't be everywhere at once, especially if the thieves all blended into the crowd or had a couple of getaway cars waiting or something similar. Multiple targets, it'd be easy for him to miss the right one until it was too late.
That would require actual skill and planning and genuine forethought, though, which are very clearly not things this crew has bothered with either developing in themselves or outsourcing to someone competent.
Tim is going to be so fucking embarrassed if he dies to a low-level Metropolis criminal's craptastic trigger discipline. At least the Joker got Jason. There was a plan and actual malicious intent there, and also intentional targeting of specifically him. Tim has apparently just been tagged as "person who looks easiest to hold hostage", which he guesses he could take as a good sign for his acting abilities but honestly is more likely just this guy being a fucking dumbass with less brains than a mummified limpet.
God, imagine what his classmates would put in the yearbook if he died on a Metropolis field trip, too. Actually, no, never mind, he doesn't even want to think about it. Too fucking mortifying a possibility.
The thief drags Tim closer to suitable "tripping" territory, Tim debates how hard he can elbow him and still claim it was accidental, and somebody says, "Are you fucking serious, man?"
Somebody, specifically, is Kon. He's standing in the middle of the hole in the wall in the full leather jacket and S-shield combo, hands on his hips and expression exasperated. Tim has a weird, irrational moment of thinking he actually recognizes him and wants to know how he fucked up this bad, but Kon's eyeing the thieves, not him.
"You know I'm gonna get blamed for this, right," Kon says, gesturing meaningfully at the smashed-in wall. "I always get blamed for the property damage."
"Back off or I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim yells, jamming the barrel of his gun annoyingly hard into his temple.
"Does 'faster than a speeding bullet' mean nothing to you people?" Kon asks, tilting his head just enough to make it obvious that he's rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.
"Superman is faster than a speeding bullet," another thief snaps. "Not you, you shitty little poser."
"I mean, you could try testing me and then get attempted murder on your crime bingo cards for absolutely zero reason," Kon suggests conversationally, smirking in amusement. "Security cameras still running in here?"
Tim guesses he's saved, technically, but this definitely means he can never tell Young Justice his secret identity, because if Kon recognizes him he will never, ever let him live this down.
Also, everybody at school is going to give him so much shit for getting saved by a Super.
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medusapelagia · 5 months
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R- Rockstar
R is for Rin (@rindecision) the first person I DMed ever! Thank you for being so kind and helpful💜
I hope you will enjoy your present 🎁!
This fic is inspired by this beautiful art made by @firefly-party (who was so kind to let me use it as an inspiration!)
Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Eddie (vague mention of Chrissy /Robin) WT: no one Words: 1144
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“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Eddie swears while he smokes the last cigarette from his packet.
“Didn’t you promise Murray that you were going to quit? It’s bad for your voice, you know that.” Chrissy tells him when she finds him on the roof smoke chaining.
“This is a fucking emergency and I’m sure that Murray will understand.”
“If you say so.” She replies, looking at him unconvinced, so Eddie puts out the cigarette on the wall behind him.
“Did you come to give me more bad news?”
She shakes her blond ponytail “No, actually I came with a good one.”
“Is Gareth ok? Are we going to play tonight?”
“Well these are two very different questions and I’ll give you two very different answers. First no, Gareth is still at the hospital and they are not going to let him leave his room, he just got his appendix perforated and it’s not a joke.”
Eddie lets himself slip toward the floor dramatically “Fuck. We are screwed.”
“But…” she continues, helping him up “You must go back because Corroded Coffin are going to play tonight!”
Eddie’s eyes widen “You didn’t.”
Chrissy smirks “I did.”
“How the hell did you find a drummer with such a short notice? Is he good? Does he know our songs?”
“He is quite good. We are very lucky because his tour just ended and he seems to know at least some of your songs.”
“Some?”
“He is good Eddie, you will be really pleased with him, I’m sure of it.”
Eddie hugs her so tight that he almost hears the bones in the girl's body cracks “Sorry, sorry. You are a magician Chrissy! I don’t know how you made it but it’s the greatest news ever! I would have been so pissed if we had had to cancel the last date of our concert and rescheduled!”
“I know, that’s why I insisted. The drummer wasn’t really convinced at the beginning, but you know me! I worked my magic and now it’s downstairs to rehearse with Frank and Jeff.
“Without me?” the metalhead asks, offended.
“You are the one crying on the roof, not my fault.” Chrissy replies with a sweet smile.
“The face of an angel and yet you are so cruel! I was mourning! Didn’t you notice?”
“Oh, I noticed, as I noticed all the cigarette buts on the floor.”
“Promise me you will not say to Murray that I smoked.”
“Pinkie promise.” She replies with a smirk, and Eddie feels there is something he is missing, but he is so excited to have a temporary drummer that he doesn’t ask any questions and runs toward the stage.
The new drummer is turned toward the boys but he seems familiar.
“Hey, Ed! Have you seen the new drummer Chrissy got us?”
The boy turns and Eddie’s blood turns into ice “Harrington?”
The chestnut boy winks at him “Hey, Munson. Chrissy told me you needed a drummer.” 
Eddie turns toward Chrissy who is laughing behind the papers that she is holding.
“Do you care to explain, Cunningham?”
“Well, Different Twins last tour date was yesterday and they were still in town, so I asked a favor to a friend.”
“Which friend?” Eddie knows that Chrissy has a crush on the blond singer and guitarist of the duo, but she knows that he is not indifferent to the pretty drummer either.
“Is it important? I got you a drummer, isn’t that what you wanted?”
Even if Different Twins play pop music Eddie has seen Harrington play more than once and he is definitely capable of repeating a song just after one listening so Eddie is pretty sure that he will nail it; the problem is Eddie: will he be able to concentrate on the music and not on the drummer?
“I fucking hate you, Cunningham.” he murmurs between his teeth.
“Nah, you love me. Now go and do what you do best!”
Eddie raises an eyebrow “Make a fool out of myself?”
“Play!” she replies, pushing him toward the stage.
“Well, I think that the boys already told you about our songs’ setlist, right?” Eddie asks, getting on stage.
Steve nods “Yeah. We were talking about the last song. I was proposing to play Running Up the Hill.” He says making a bun with his hair and fixing it with a pen.
“Sorry?”
“Running Up The Hill, your version of the song.”
Eddie shakes his head “We usually close with our version of Sweet Dreams.”
“Yeah, I know it, but it sounds like an easy choice. I mean… don’t you want everyone to leave the concert still pumped? It’s your concert, so it’s your choice but…”
“We haven’t played it in so long.�� Jeff intervenes, looking at Eddie “I’d like to play it again. What do you say?”
Eddie glares at Jeff, he just put him in a difficult position “That’s not what we decided…”
“Come on! It will be fun!” Frank insists and Eddie sighs.
“Ok, ok, but we have to rehearse it at least a couple of times, ok?”
That’s how Eddie finds himself close to Steve, watching his every movement and finding them impeccable.
“You are good.” Eddie tells him, offering some water.
“Were you worried?” Steve asks amused.
“A bit? Sorry, but it’s our last tour concert and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
“I get it, I’m the pretty boy who plays pop music, aren’t I?”
Eddie can’t deny that he was thinking these very same words so he simply shrugs whispering “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I guess you’ll have to offer me a beer.”
“What for?”
“For being rude?” Steve replies sticking his tongue out.
That’s not what Eddie was expecting from him, he was expecting a preppy rich kid who would have reminded him that he comes from a rich family and is a talented multi-instrumentalist, but instead, he simply asked for a beer and stuck his tongue out like a five-year-old.
When they get on stage Steve is wearing a blue tank top that shows all his constellations of moles and Eddie has to try his hardest not to get too fixed on the drummer during the concert, even if his eyes find Steve’s more time than not.
“So, how do you like him?” Jeff asks Eddie when they get backstage after the concert.
“He is good.”
“I’m sure he is good at many things…” he whispers with a wink, but Eddie can’t reply because Steve is waiting for him.
“If I’m not wrong you still owe me a beer, right?”
Eddie turns toward Jeff to ask him if he wants to join them, but somehow both he and Frank have vanished into thin air.
“Well, it seems it’s just me and you, big boy.” Eddie concludes “My place?” he asks and the smile Steve gives him tells him all he needs to know.
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